It all started with a Pensieve
by slash-gurl50
Summary: When Harry sees something in Snape's pensieve, that he wished he hadn't, he starts to go back to the pensieve to confirm what he saw was true, but then he begins to feel something for his professor he never thought he would.
1. Chapter One

It all started with a Pensieve  
  
Chapter One  
  
"This isn't going to work," Harry decided, as he, Ron and Hermione walked down the corridor to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
"Of course it is," Hermione declared. She still had faith in her plan.  
  
"Yeah, Harry. We've done this a million times before," Ron of course was referring to breaking into Snape's private storage and stealing ingredients for potions. How many times had they done this? Harry had lost count.  
  
"Yeah, but that was in his storage cabinet. Now we're attempting to break into his private rooms." Harry sighed, and then a thought occurred to him. "And how exactly do we know that all this stuff will be in there?"  
  
"Neville saw them when he had to clean all their jars for detention last week," Ron sniggered.  
  
"I still say this won't work," He had his mind made up, and it wasn't going to change.  
  
"Think what you will, when the Slytherins see what we're planning, they'll freak." Hermione couldn't help but love what they were doing, and despite her morals, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.  
  
"I can't wait to see the look on Malfoy's face," Ron's face contorted up into a look of sheer and utter surprise and horror, then he doubled over laughing, as did Hermione. Harry smiled a small smile. He still couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It was a long held tradition that the seventh year Gryffindores, and the seventh year Slytherins were to out do each other for pranks. When this tradition started wasn't quite remembered, but it was guessed that the Marauders probably had something to do with it. Harry of course, once hearing about this in his sixth year, found that his seventh year would hold even more to look forward to. So when his seventh year had rolled around, it was quite clear that Harry was enjoying himself, possibly more then he should, but nonetheless having fun.  
  
The pranking was scored. When one side threw a prank at the other, whether it be one person in particular, or the whole house, a point was given. By the end of September Gryffindor was up by four, but Harry wasn't quite satisfied yet. He wanted to get back at Malfoy in particular, and their plan was going to be perfect, if only they could get the right ingredients.  
  
With Hermione being Head Girl made getting things, which would have been previously unattainable, able to be found. She was now able to get into the restricted section of the library, hence being able to find the certain potion's book, which held the instructions for this certain concoction.  
  
The ingredients had been more difficult to obtain. Some of them were bought at Hogsmeade, and others were stolen during potions class. Though Snape's private storage cabinet had been searched thoroughly, nothing could be found.  
  
Hope for the perfect way to get back at Malfoy had almost been lost, but when Neville 'accidentally' blew up his cauldron during potions, he was sentenced to learn the jars in Snape's own quarters. Seeing the three missing ingredients held within, but being under too watchful an eye to steal them, he reported back, and the plot was hatched.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Friday afternoon proved to be most boring. Harry, having divination for the last to periods, was sitting next to Ron, predicting their deaths, when Ron brought up something.  
  
"Harry?" Ron inquired.  
  
"Yeah"  
  
"How are we going to stop Snape from being in his quarters?" Ron had a very valid point, that not even Hermione had thought of.  
  
"I have no idea," Harry admitted. For the rest of the afternoon Harry's mind was occupied with the constant thought of getting rid of Snape. The plan was scheduled for that night, and if someone didn't think of something soon, they would have to find another way to get the last ingredients.  
  
Unfortunately, no such idea struck Harry, or Ron that day. With classes over, and the trio sitting in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was consulted.  
  
"Any ideas?" Harry asked smugly, gloating over the fact he knew something was going to go wrong.  
  
"Oh, stop being so smug," Hermione chided. "We'll go down at dinner. We won't have much time, but it's the only chance we're going to get tonight." Harry, still not sure, but wanting to get even with Malfoy, agreed to the slight change of plans.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Dinner, as always was loud and crowded, thanks to this no one missed the three vacant seats at the Gryffindor table. And even if the odd Gryffindor did, nothing was said to draw attention to it.  
  
Down, many floors below the Great Hall, three seventh year students, under a stifling hot invisibility cloak, moved silently. Harry, being in the middle, checked his map. Everything was as planned. Snape was in the Great Hall, sitting on the Headmaster's left side, at the faculty table. Filch was in his chambers, as was Mrs. Norris. Peeves was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, presumably playing his new favorite game, flushing Myrtle into the lake. And to add to that, not one other soul was in sight of the dungeons.  
  
Neville had conveniently marked off on the map where Snape's chambers were. "Leave it to Snape to have chambers on the very bottom dungeon of Hogwarts." Ron remarked, quietly, as they trekked down yet another flight of stairs. The three of them had lost track of how many floors they had gone under, and were now relying heavily on Harry's map.  
  
"I think we only have two more flights to go," Hermione pointed out, showing their position.  
  
The further down they went, the colder and wetter it got. Dripping sounds could be heard coming from above and below them. At some points, Harry got the distinct idea he could see his breath. They went down one more flight of stairs, and then another, until they came off of a flat landing.  
  
"Merlin, how can Snape stand it?" Ron asked blankly, rubbing his hands together. This was one of the spots where they could see their breath. "So where are we supposed to go?" He asked, looking around to only see a carving of a serpent on the right side of the wall.  
  
"Three guesses to where his chambers are," Harry said, raising an eyebrow at the snake's pointed fangs.  
  
"He really does have some fascination with snakes, doesn't he?" Hermione commented, approaching the snake. She stretched out a finger and pressed it closer to the snake, only to have the snake bite at her finger. Luckily, she pulled it away it time to save her finger from being bitten off.  
  
"How did Neville say to get in?" Harry asked, checking his map once again, to make sure everyone was still in place.  
  
"Password," Hermione told them. She stood in front of the snake again, keeping her distance enough so they it couldn't reach her. "Slytherin," With that the snake let out a threatening hiss, causing Ron to jump back slightly, and it coiled inward, then slithered up the wall, leaving a stone doorway.  
  
"Ron, will wait here, and I'll go up to the next landing with the map. If I see anything I'll motion for Ron to tell you, Harry. Keep the invisibility cloak with you, and hide you and Ron. I'll talk my way out of it" Hermione was much more confident about breaking rules, now that she was Head Girl. She started up the stairs, and then turned back, "And remember to be quick. We don't have much time," With that she bolted up the stairs, map in hand.  
  
Ron nodded at Harry, "Good luck," He said with a smile.  
  
Harry turned and entered the chamber. His first impression was how cold it was. It must have been even more freezing then the outside of his chambers. Harry, wrapping his Hogwart's robes around him more tightly, looked around. The entire chamber was stone: the floor, the ceiling, the walls, and even all of the visible furniture, except perhaps a plush green chair, located in front of a massive fireplace, which by the way had no fire in it. Harry almost had the urge to go and lit a fire, even if it was just for a few seconds, so he could get some warmth. A desk sat at the far corner, with parchment, quills and books scattered messily atop of it. To the left of the fireplace was a door, peering inside it proved that the room was a dinning room of sorts. A bathroom was located at the other side.  
  
Harry exited the dinning room, and went to the door found at the head of the chamber. Snape's bedroom was where this was. A huge bed, covered in green, tattered bed sheets, which looked to Harry like some sort of moss, with matching curtains, hung around the bed. A night table sat beside the bed, with nothing on it other then a book marked book. With no other place to go in Snape's chambers, Harry went in the door, behind Snape's desk.  
  
This was the workroom. A discarded cauldron, on a large stone table, sat in the middle of the room, amongst stained old parchment, which looked like they were rotting at the corners. Shelves upon shelves of bottled up liquids, and some solids hung on the walls. Harry took in a deep breath. This was going to take a very long time. He pulled out the list of what he needed: one bezoar, one Romanian Longhorn Dragon horn, (sliced into four parts) and Jobberknoll feathers.  
  
Harry began to pour over hundreds of jars and bottles. All of them were neatly labeled in Snape's sharp script. Harry hadn't been through many when he found the Jobberknoll feathers. The bezoar was found only minutes later. The Romanian Longhorn Dragon horn took considerably longer, being it was on the top shelf, which apparently Neville had forgotten to dust, because it was covered in dust and a darker black powder that smelled odd. Harry collected the three ingredients in separate jars he had brought along with him, and made his way for the exit. Checking his watch, he was happy to see that they still had a little over a half an hour.  
  
He was just about to leave when something caught his eye by the workroom door. It was a pensieve, Harry was sure, but it looked much different from the one in Dumbledore's chambers.  
  
The one in Dumbledore's chambers had seemed light, silver and happy, not of course that all the memories concealed inside it were happy, but Harry had got the distinct impression that in general most of them were more happy then sad. This one seemed much different. The liquid steaming in it was pure black, except for the images that swirled around it. Faint screams, as if they were coming through stonewalls radiated from it. The present image that swirled at the top was of a man, cloaked in solid black, as well as a hood, ran through a forest, as if being chased. Harry couldn't make out who it was, but he was sure, for one reason or another that it was Snape.  
  
The image swirled and got lost and mixed up in the sea of blackness. Another one appeared this one was of a child, probably eleven, or maybe twelve. He was being pushed down a high set of steep stone stairs, by a group of boys. Harry recognized the stairs were the ones by the potion's classroom. As he tumbled down them, and landed painfully on his arm, a sickening, yet faint crack was hear amidst the still present screaming, as the other boys laughed and turned away, leaving the one boy, holding his arm at the bottom of the stairs, tears streaming down his face.  
  
Harry forced himself to look away. He wanted to see more, go into the pensieve and see these scenes more in detail, but time was running short on him. He was about to leave, when a face in the pensieve caught his eye. It was him. He looked closer, to see that it was unmistakable. He must have been fifteen. But why was he in Snape's pensieve. Then he noticed that it couldn't have been him. The boy in the pensieve didn't have green eyes. They were a deep blue, with huge amounts of light reflecting in them. Harry took a step back, momentarily relieved that he wasn't in Snape's pensieve, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him, in the pitch-black liquid.  
  
It must have been his father, was what Harry concluded. He watched as his father was saying something, he couldn't make out the words, they were being spoke in an icy whisper. What was clear was that he was threatening Snape. Another boy, most likely Snape, by Harry's guess, was standing in front of his father. Then with no precaution at all, his father took a hard punch a Snape, landing it square in the gut. He watched as the boy doubled back, clutching his stomach. It seemed to Harry that his father would back off now. He had clearly gotten his message across, and Snape wasn't in the position to do much now, but he didn't stop. He returned in punching him again and again, cursing and swearing at him as he did. Harry felt his stomach tighten as he watched the younger version of his father beat Snape into the fetal position. The screams from the pensieve grew louder, less faint, as if they were egging him on. Then with a harsh laugh, Harry's father got up and walked away laughing his head off, leaving Snape once again in serious pain.  
  
Harry could watch no more. He got up, and slammed the door behind him, trying to block out the screaming of the pensieve, that swam rapidly around in his head. He exited Snape's chambers, never wanting to go back and wanting to forget he had ever seen that horrid pensieve.  
  
Ron was waiting where Harry left him. "Did you get the stuff?" He asked, in a hushed whisper. Harry held up the jars that he had collected. Ron's smile widened. "This is so great." Then he noticed Harry wasn't smiling. "What's wrong?"  
  
Harry tried to snap himself out of it. "Nothing," He said through clenched teeth. "Let's go get Hermione," He suggested, managing a small smile. The two of them rushed off to the next landing, under Harry's invisibility cloak, to grab Hermione and take her back to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harry lay in his bed that night, rethinking, for about the hundredth time that night, the events of that night. After the incident in Snape's chamber, the three of them had made their way back upstairs to their dormitories, effectively hiding the ingredients in Harry's invisibility, at the bottom of his trunk, saved for later use the following day. They had went to grab dinner from the house elves in the kitchen, Harry attempting to act normal, but unable to keep the thought of his father beating the living daylights out of Snape, when he was seemingly unprovoked, was asked about fifty times during the course of their dinner, whether he was alright.  
  
Homework that night proved an impossible task, so giving up, Harry let himself be beaten at chess by Ron, and retired early for the night. Not that he had slept at all. With his curtains drawn around him, he heard the other four boys return to the dormitory and fall asleep without any trouble. By three in the morning, Harry had given up any hope of sleeping that night and was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.  
  
He didn't understand. From everything he had been told from Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin, and not to mention a huge host of other people, Harry had always gotten the impression that his parents were good, seemingly perfect people. He had been told they were Head Boy and Head Girl, they were Aurors, and they fought against Voldemort. Harry couldn't get it in his mind as to why his own 'perfect' father would ever do something like this.  
  
Harry didn't know why, but he knew he needed to find out. The idea of sneaking into Snape's chambers and looking into his pensieve was both terrifying and exciting at the same time. His father couldn't have been like that, Harry kept telling himself. There must have been some reason that he couldn't see. Even though he kept repeating this over and over in his mind, Harry knew it wasn't true. He had seen the whole scene and there was no way he could make an accuse about it, but yet he tried.  
  
Harry decided then and there that he would sneak down to that pensieve as many times as he had to, until he saw that scene again, until he saw what really happened that night.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Well here's my first chapter. Forgive me, but I've never written fanfiction before, but I'm a huge Harry Potter fan, and love my Sevvie baby to death. So I'll try and update this regularly. I have no idea how long this will turn out to be. I think I have a rough idea of what's going to happen, but I'll probably add a bit in as I go. I'm pretty sure this will end up as slash, but you never know. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I'm going to try and cater to the reviewers, so if you have an idea tell me and I might incorporate it somehow. 


	2. Chapter Two

It all started with a Pensieve  
  
Chapter two  
  
"Why the hell am I doing this?" Harry cursed himself as he walked down the stone, dungeon corridor. It was only days after he had first saw the haunting images in Snape's pensieve, and was unable to concentrate on anything else since. He had to prove the last image wrong. There was no way his perfect father would ever do something like this, ever.  
  
He was lucky that the Hogsmeade weekend had been so close, he wasn't sure that he could last not knowing for much longer. Harry had overheard Snape telling the Headmaster that he was going into Hogsmeade to stock up on supplies and wouldn't be back until late. With the excuse given to Ron and Hermione that he had too much homework to do, Harry evaded going out, and was able to do what he needed to. It wasn't like it mattered to them. All they ever wanted to do anymore was snog.  
  
So, with an entire day ahead of him, Harry turned a corner and walked down the last flight of stairs, under his invisibility cloak. He spoke the password, and the snake slithered up the wall, inviting Harry back into Snape's private chambers.  
  
The chambers were more or less the exact same as they had been the previous night, and Harry went straight for the pensieve. It was still swirling dark pictures. Harry squinted and touched his finger to the inky water, and immediately felt the dungeon around him disappear, as he was uplifted.  
  
He landed hard, much harder then he had when he was in Dumbledore's pensieve, he noted. When he eyes focused he saw he was in an extremely confined space. The lights were dim, and Harry felt him self nag his head on the low ceiling. He stretched out his arm and felt a stonewall, directly beside him. He was in a closet, or perhaps a type of cabinet. Then he sensed movement to his left.  
  
Harry swirled around to see a child, no more then four or five, sitting against the cold wall, curled up in a ball, sobbing. Harry knew he had no effect here, but he couldn't help but kneel down beside him and pat his back.  
  
The child's long hair fell in his eyes, as he buried his head in his arms and cried loudly. Harry rubbed his back a little more gently, wanting to comfort the boy in any way he could. The boy looked up, and Harry saw his face more clearly. His eyes were dark and beyond emotionless. It was Snape. It had to be Snape.  
  
Harry then remembered that, after all, this was Snape's pensieve and being there was no one else there, it had to be him. The boy stood up shakily. Harry caught a glance at his tattered robes on his back. There were bloody scars behind the ripped robe. Harry winced as he saw dried blood tangled in Snape's hair. He went to the door and attempted to open it, using the knob. It didn't budge. He threw his weight at the door, and it shook violently under his small weight, but didn't move.  
  
He sunk back to the floor and held his head in his hands as he stifled tears. Harry went to the door and tried to ram it down, despite knowing better. It still did nothing. He couldn't help but feel pity for the child. Why was he locked in this dreadful place anyway?  
  
Harry was distracted from his thoughts when he saw Snape get back up again and pound on the door with his fists, still crying uncontrollably, when that did nothing, he lay his head on the cool stone door and sobbed miserably.  
  
Suddenly, without any warning, the door flew open, sending Snape crashing back against the stonewall, with a sickening crack. A man stepped in. Harry certainly knew where Snape got his looks. He was tall, probably the same size as Snape was now, but heavier, much more filled out. His hooked nose was, if possible, even larger then Snape's.  
  
"Get up, you sniveling idiot." He barked, roughly yanking Snape up by his hair.  
  
"Father I swear I didn't mean to," He was interrupted by a hard punch in the face. He collapsed onto the ground and began to sob harder, wiping the blood off of his cheek, and refusing to look back at his father.  
  
"Stupid, clumsy boy! You've just sent your mother to the hospital because of the scare you gave her. Really, knocking over her favorite painting, you'll do her in, you will," Snape was forced up from his huddled position of the floor and manhandled out of the closet.  
  
Harry followed, unable to look away with some sick fascination, into a bedroom. It was decorated in dark wooden furniture, with forest green coverings, and a low fireplace, burning a log in the corner.  
  
"I really didn't mean to break the picture." His was voice was squeaky and high from being so worried. All Harry wanted to do was hold the poor boy, until he calmed down. There was a creepy silence between the two for a few seconds. Harry looked over at Snape's father, who was grinding his teeth together, staring daggers into the boy. "Is mommy okay?" He asked, wiping the still dripping tears away.  
  
"Fool of a boy," he father declared, swiftly backhanding Snape onto the floor. "This is the forth time she's been to the hospital this month, and it's all your fault." The man stood, looming over the child, fists clenched in anger. "You'll be the end of her!" He shouted. Then he pointed to the door, at the other end of the room, "Get the hell out of here, boy." Snape didn't need to be told twice. He bolted from the room, and ran down a long hallway. Harry followed closely behind. Snape, weeping openly, flew down a flight of stairs, and tripped on the last stair, falling painfully on his ankle. Harry kneeled beside him, and watched as the boy cried out loudly as he attempted to move his swelling ankle.  
  
Harry felt his body being rushed up above the scene unfolding before him, and he landed hard on grass. His eyes opened to see the sky shining a bright blue, and white clouds floating far above him. Then he heard a light giggle. He turned off of his back to see a pretty young girl. She was tall, with pale skin and very dark hair, cut short in what looked like a pixy cut. She wore black tight fitting shorts, and a blue tank top, with an outer summer robe. She looked like she was in her early teens, thirteen, maybe fourteen. Harry watched curiously as she ran fast and did and cartwheel. Then he heard something else from behind him. He turned again to see Snape, not much older then he had been in the previous image.  
  
"Come here, love," She motioned for him to come over, and he ran into her open arms and snuggled down against her. Harry got to his feet and looked closer, to see Snape had a large bruise forming just below his eye. The girl picked Snape up and swung him around, before letting his small frame rest against her hip, with his short legs wrapped around her waist. "How's you cheek, love?" She asked, caressing the swollen flesh.  
  
"It'll be okay," He whispers, and then cuddles closer to her. "Syria?" He asks, gazing up into her face.  
  
"Yes, Sev," She responds, placidly.  
  
"When do you have to go back to Hogwarts?" His voice is clearly nervous, and vibrating with worry and dread.  
  
"Not for two weeks still, love. Don't fret about it yet," She giggles and falls to the soft grass, bringing Snape down with her. She rolls on her back and looks up at the clouds, "What do you see, love?" She inquires, as Snape rolls his head onto her shoulder.  
  
"They're too wispy today," He says quietly.  
  
"They are, aren't they?" Syria smiles and presses a kiss to Snape's forehead, and Harry watches as Snape closes his eyes.  
  
"I love you, Syria." His voice is so hushed that Harry can hardly hear it.  
  
"I know you do, love. I love you too." With that Harry can feel his body being uplifted and he comes into hard contact with the familiar surroundings of Snape's private chambers. He looks back at the pensieve and shakes his head.  
  
He didn't see what he had wanted to see, but he had certainly learned quite a lot. Harry stands and checks the clock on the wall. It's only three o'clock in the afternoon. He feels a tinge of hunger in the pit of his stomach, and wraps his invisibility cloak tight around him, and he leaves the cold dungeons. Footsteps, coming from no one visible make their way up to the school kitchens, then twenty or so minutes later, make their way back down to the dungeons.  
  
Harry, once again, immerges from his cloak into Snape's chambers, in front of his pensieve. With a deep breath he touched his finger to it and feels the now familiar sensation of floating above the dungeon, and landing in a place he has never seen before.  
  
He's back in the bedroom, the one where the first vision lead to, but not in the closet. A boy, just a bit younger then him, sits at a desk fiddling with a piece of parchment. Harry approaches him closer, to see that the boy is clearly Snape. His lengthy black hair is tied in a clasp at the back of his head, and his robes are thick, probably to block out the freezing temperatures of the bitter wind. Harry sees that out the window it's snowing heavily. He suppresses a shudder, and turns his attention back to Snape. He's crying.  
  
Harry takes a step closer, wanting to validate what he thought he saw. Snape was indeed crying. Streaks of tears fall from his watery black eyes, and down his pristine cheeks, yet he makes no noise. He sets his head on his desk, and sobs openly, not holding back any longer. Harry walks up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder, feeling that it was too warm, much to warm. Harry walks to face him and sets his cool hand on Snape's forehead. It's burning up. Harry does nothing, wanting to comfort him, but knowing he can't.  
  
Snape continues to cry onto his desk, hardly breathing, except for the gulps of air he takes every few minutes in-between wails of pity. Harry can't help but wrap his arms around him from the back, and smooth his hair out. When Harry realizes who he's doing this for, he jerks back and remembers that Snape probably deserved what he was sobbing about.  
  
A knock at the door makes both Harry and Snape jump. He watches as the greasy haired youth wipes his tears away frantically and stands up, straightening his crinkled robes. "Come in," He manages with a steady voice.  
  
In walks the man from the other vision, Snape's father. Harry feels more unexplained anger for the barking man. "Were you crying?" He snaps, marching towards his son, grabbing his face and looking at his red, swollen eyes.  
  
"No, sir," Harry sees that Snape is beginning to shake.  
  
"Weak little boy," His father pushes him hard in the stomach, sending Snape flying into the desk. "Stupid pathetic fag. You never stop crying!" He bellows at the top of his voice. He grabs him by the scruff of the neck and punches him in the gut. "Be a man! Men don't cry." Snape in shaking hard, fighting back tears, but refusing to let them fall. "Do you hear me?" He screams, when Snape says nothing.  
  
"Yes, sir." Now his voice is unsteady, and quavering. His father narrows his eyes and shakes a fist in his face. Then he forces him harder against the desk and presses his forehead against his son's.  
  
"If I ever see you snivel again, I swear I'll take you out, you sick little pansy." The older man once again shoves the smaller boy into the desk, and stalks out to the door. Before leaving he turns and say, "Get dressed. The funeral is in an hour." With that he leaves and slams the door behind him.  
  
Snape stands weakly and goes to his closet, the same one, Harry notes that he had been locked in earlier. Then a thought hits him. Before it had sounded like his mother was ill. She had to be the one who died, and that was probably why he was crying. Snape pulls out a set of clean black robes, and pulls the ones on his back off. Harry turns around, feeling slightly dirty that he could watch his own Professor undress. He didn't turn quite quick enough because he caught sight of scars on his back. Harry whipped around seeing grotesque jagged lines, some of them looking fresh, on his back.  
  
Harry felt sick to his stomach as he wondered who he could have gotten them. Snape finishes dressing, and leaves his room, Harry following him. He heads down the same hallway as before, but instead of going down the stairs, he stops at the last room in the hall. The door is closed and Snape knocks. Harry watches as a girl, who Harry recognizes as the young teenager from the previous memory, answers the door. She's much older now, probably in her mid twenties, but looks much the same.  
  
"Sev, you okay? You look sick," she says, rubbing his back soothingly. Snape shook his head, and with her arms wrapped around him, she lead him into her room, Harry snuck in quietly.  
  
Harry was immediately reminded of the pictures in muggle magazines of teenage girl's rooms. The walls were painted a light pink, as was all of the furniture. Posters of bands and singers Harry had never heard of plastered the walls, and clothes as well as other junk covered the floor.  
  
She led Snape over to her bed and let him lay down, while sitting next to him. Do you want me to get a potion?" She asked tenderly, wiping the sweat off of his face. In the better light of her room, Harry noticed just how sick Snape looked. He shook his head, weakly, closing his eyes. "Okay." She responded calmly.  
  
Snape turned against her body and cuddles close. "I know you're very upset, love, but you have to remember that your life isn't over. She's been gone for over two weeks, love, you need to start living a little." Snape makes no movement; he doesn't even look like he's heard any of it. There is silence for a long time. The girl holds Snape a little closer and kisses his cheek. "I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have said that." Snape still does nothing. He's looking off into the distance, paying no attention to anything around him. Syria sighs, knowing she's not doing any good and gets up. "We should get going soon. Father will be angry at us if we're late." She goes and opens her door, but still Snape doesn't move.  
  
With a sigh she walks back to Snape and brings him into her arms. "Love, oh love, just cry it out. You need a good cry," She whispers, rocking him back and forth.  
  
"Men don't cry," He finally speaks. His voice is still quivering, but isn't quite as bad as it was before.  
  
"What bullshit is that?" She asks, turning his head so it faces her. "You've been listening to father again," She sighs, exasperated. He nods, burying his face into her robes. "Don't listen to him at all, ever. You can cry whenever you want to and it doesn't make you any less of a man." Snape doesn't move or speak again. After a few seconds of lying against his sister, doing nothing, he gets up, shaky on his feet and moves to the door.  
  
"We don't want to be late." He whispers, motioning for his sister to follow. She gets up and holds his hand against hers, while walking out of the bedroom.  
  
Harry feels himself being torn from the scene, and lands forcefully back on Snape's private chambers. The clock reveals it to be after five, and Harry, not wanting to push his limits, walks back up to the Gryffindor common room, under his father's old invisibility, seriously pondering over Snape's sanity.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
So here's my second chapter. It came out pretty fast, don't you think? Anyway, thanks to all those who reviewed my first chapter, they were a really big help. Please review again, or even better, review for the first time. I need all the help I can get! With Easter holidays coming up I'm hoping to get two chapters posted, so keep a look out for them soon. 


	3. Chapter Three

It all started with a Pensieve  
  
Chapter Three  
  
"Harry? Are you paying any attention?" Hermione's inquisitive voice broke Harry out of his stupor. "You've been so out of it lately. Is anything up?" Hermione quizzes her friend, at the dinner table. The Great Hall is as loud as it always is, and the three friends sit, at the far corner of the Gryffindor table, watching the Slytherins nervously.  
  
"No, I'm fine," Harry states, emotionlessly, turning his attention once again to the faculty table. Snape sits near the left side, chatting idly with Sprout, probably about some potion, in Harry's opinion. 'How can he act so normal?' Is the predominant question on Harry's mind. Of course, he also reminds himself again, that he has been living with all this for what? Twenty years? Harry supposed he must have gotten rather used to it by now.  
  
"Harry, you're doing it again," Hermione points out, once again bringing him out of his daze. "Are you sure you're okay?" She asks again.  
  
"I'm fine." Harry is beginning to get a little ticked with all the questions.  
  
"Look!" Ron said motioning to where Malfoy was sitting. He took a drink of his pumpkin juice, and put the glass back down. "He drank it! I can't believe he drank it!" Ron exclaimed loudly, being shushed by Hermione.  
  
"How long will the potion take?" Harry finally joins the conversation with an inquiry.  
  
"Only a few minutes. He'll be a girl in no time," Hermione giggles, sadistically, as does Ron.  
  
"This will be too good. I think we deserve thousands of points for this one, that's for sure." Ron is practically giddy with excitement.  
  
"I think it's starting," Hermione adds. The group falls silent and watches quietly, as Malfoy clutches his stomach, looking slightly nauseas.  
  
"Yeah, that can happen, when you dick is shriveling up," Ron says, nonchalantly. Hermione looks mortified.  
  
"Don't put it that way, Ron!" She suppresses a shriek, and is about to add to that when Malfoy gets up from his seat and runs from the Great Hall. "Come on, let's follow." And with that the three Gryffindores ran from the room, leaving the rest of the students and professors, slightly confused.  
  
"Where do you think he went?" Asked Ron, looking around. Hermione said nothing, but listened for any sound of movement.  
  
"Let's try the boy's toilets." She suggested. The three friends charged at the closest washroom, finding none other then Draco Malfoy, leaning over the sink, and holding his gut.  
  
"Hey, Malfoy," Ron drawled, trying to calm the case of the giggles he had. "Nice boobs." Harry, and even Hermione, who was trying to stop the laughter, howled at his comment.  
  
"You did this!" He accused.  
  
"How'd you guess?" Harry asked, seeing that Malfoy's hair began to grow at the ends, falling down his back.  
  
"You'll be arrested for this, Potter," Draco threatened, still clutching his stomach.  
  
"We looked it up, Malfoy. It's perfectly legal." Hermione, and her know it all self claims.  
  
"I think Gryffindores winning so far," Ron, still can't shake the laughter.  
  
"You'll pay for this, Potter," Malfoy declares stalking out of the bathroom. The three Gryffindores laugh hysterically, unable to stop, for the better part of a minute.  
  
"Merlin, did you see his face?" Ron asks, as they head back up to the common room. "He, I mean she, will have trouble explaining this, I think."  
  
"How long will it last anyway?" Harry inquires to Hermione.  
  
"Only three days sadly, but at least it's better then known. And I don't think the professors will let him not attend classes when he's not in any pain." She answers.  
  
"Knowing Snape, Malfoy won't show his face at all." Ron sighs, gloomily. "Oh well, it was still worth it, just to see Malfoy as a girl."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry woke up from another one of his dreams. They had just started recently, but they were the worst nightmares he had ever had, by far. It was strange, really. He had dreams of Voldemort torturing people, hunting for himself, and even killing innocent children, but there was something all too familiar in these dreams.  
  
They were of Snape. It varied what happened to him. Sometimes it was Snape's father, beating him and yelling horrible things at him. Sometimes it was his own Godfather and father doing similar things. He always woke up feeling ill, and dirty, as if he was peering into a world that didn't belong to him, he supposed in a way he sort of was. But regardless of the guilt, he couldn't help but feel sorry for his potion's professor. He was sure there was to him that what he had already saw, and he intended on finding out about it.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The next morning proved to be quite interesting. It was in their first class, Herbology with the Slytherins, that Malfoy showed up. In the Great Hall, when checking the point system, it showed that Gryffindor was winning by even more, for obvious reasons.  
  
Malfoy sauntered in, looking at the ground, as all of Gryffindor broke out laughing. It had gotten around the previous night what had happened, but only Harry, Hermione, Ron, and many of the Slytherins had seen him.  
  
His, or shall we shall her hair was lengthy and down Malfoy's back and tied into a ponytail, with a silver clasp. Malfoy's robes were rather snug around 'his' chest, and it seemed he walked with slight discomfort.  
  
For the rest of Herbology all the Slytherins shot daggers at the Gryffindor trio, also shooting hexes when Professor Sprout wasn't looking. By the end of their classes, Ron was sporting a bloody nose, and Hermione had finished burping bubbles.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was a stupid idea, really. Why Harry was sneaking down to the dungeons, and to Snape's own chambers, no less, in the middle of the night, when the occupant of said rooms was probably sleeping in them, was beyond Harry.  
  
The trek to the dungeon was much the same. Filch was conveniently distracted by Peeves on the seventh floor, and anyone else who needed to be watched for was in their respective dormitories or chambers.  
  
Harry, casting a silencing charm over himself and hid under his father's old cloak, spoke the password to Snape's chambers and entered.  
  
Harry, not being able to turn on a light, fumbled his way over to the Pensieve, not seeing any sign of Snape. He kept his cloak on as he touched the dark water's surface and left Snape's room.  
  
He landed on wooden tiles. It was dark, much darker then it had been in Snape's quarters. Harry stands up properly, wondering where he is. The floor beneath him is wood, as are the walls, but to where he could possibly be is not known to him. That's when a small glimmer of light, from a long ways off shows. Harry charges towards it, finding that he's in a tunnel, with narrow corridors. Then a voice breaks the silence, "Remus, are you in here?" It's Snape. He's holding a lighted torch, providing little light. Harry steps closer. He must be about his age, probably seventeen, sixteen at the youngest. His face is a jumble of nervousness. He calls out again. "Remus?" His voice a little more shaken. Snape continues walking down the hallway and Harry follows.  
  
Harry walks beside him, watching him closely, observing him. His face is illuminated in the torchlight, and Harry can't help but find it at least a little attractive. He's much the same as he is now, but younger. Some of the stress marks and wrinkles have vanished, leaving smooth skin where they were.  
  
"Remus, are you even in here?" His voice quivers nervously. That's when it all clicks into place in Harry's mind. This was the shrieking shack. Snape was going to be attacked.  
  
"You've got to get out of here!" Harry jostles him roughly, but as he knew it would, it has no effect. Snape keeps walking, oblivious to Harry's complaints and pleadings. That's when a barreling sound, like heavy footsteps stampeding down stairs is heard, further down the tunnel.  
  
Snape stops in his tracks, but doesn't turn back to run in the opposite direction. The noise gets nearer and nearer, and Harry braces himself for what he knows is about to happen. A wolf, huge and intense comes charging, at full speed, into view. Harry looks at Snape's panic stricken face, and tries to pull him away.  
  
The wolf leaps on top of Snape, pulling him to the ground, with a pained scream, as Harry sees the werewolf's claws dig into his flesh. A burst of light, followed closely by another comes from the direction of the entrance. The werewolf, doubles back, clearly hit by whatever threw it. Another figure comes into Harry's view. It's his father. Down to the last detail, save from his eyes and the lack of scar of his forehead, it's him.  
  
Harry's father grabs Snape, roughly pulling him to his feet, regardless of the hoarse cry of pain. James sends a few more jets of light flying back at the wolf; dragging a weakened Snape back, out into the schoolyards. Once the crisis has been diverted, James drops Snape onto the grass, and Harry sees just how much blood a werewolf's claws can cause to flow.  
  
Snape's entire chest is covered in it, seeping through the torn robes. Harry kneels down to Snape's form, which is gasping for air, barely breathing. Harry looks back up at his father. "I just did this so Remus won't get expelled. You can get yourself back to the Hospital Wing." And with a roll of his eyes, Harry's grand, hero dad, leaves Snape covered in blood and dieing.  
  
Harry, panicked and shaking tries to get Snape to stand, but it's no use. "Come on, Snape. Just get up already." Snape begins to gasp for air more violently, and Harry starts to lose it. "Just stand up, you're gonna die if you don't, come one." Whether it be Harry's nagging or, simply how it happened, Snape weakly forced himself up, doubling in pain from the blood loss in his chest and stumbles into the castle. Harry notices his leaving a trail of blood behind him, but he could care less at the moment. Before he knows what he's doing, Harry has his arms wrapped tightly around him, trying to hold him up, which apparently isn't working.  
  
Only halfway to the Hospital Wing, Snape drops down, clutching his bloodied chest, which refuses to stop bleeding, and cries weakly. There was no way he was going to make it up any more flights of stairs. Harry nudges him up, but he doesn't obey. Then something, running down, very fast I might add, comes charging through the hallway, and stops at Snape.  
  
"Oh, Merlin! Severus are you alright?" It was Draco, or at least he looked like Draco. Harry knew in fact it must have been Lucius Malfoy. "God, when I ran into Black he said you'd be pretty roughed up, but Merlin, this isn't quite what I was expecting." His voice is in a blind panic, something Harry wouldn't have expected from Lucius Malfoy. "Try to stand up, I'm getting you to the hospital wing." He commands, gently pulling Snape up. A spluttering cry from Snape, tells him he's hurt him.  
  
"It hurts so much, Luc," Snape was babbling, clutching onto Malfoy for dear life. That's when the coughing started. Lucius rubbed Snape's back as cough after cough raked through Snape's frame. Then Harry noticed he was coughing something up. Blood. "Luc, oh Merlin." Lucius saw too, and held Snape closer.  
  
"We have to go now." Lucius, understanding Snape wasn't going to be able to walk, even with help, picked up Snape, so Snape's head rested on his shoulder, and his legs were wrapped weakly around his waist. Snape was pretty small, and Lucius did seem to have some muscles, so all in all, Harry guessed that Lucius wasn't straining himself.  
  
Lucius carried him higher into the castle, trying to keep Snape calm at the same time. "It's okay, just close your eyes and try to rest. We're almost there." Lucius told him, and to Harry's surprise, Snape did.  
  
At seemed like the longest trip to the hospital wing Harry had ever experienced. When Lucius did get there, he dumped a semi-conscious Snape gently onto the nearest bed and called for Madam Pomfrey. She arrived from a backroom, Harry assuming there her chambers, and instructed to Malfoy to leave this instant. He refused. Flat out and simple, he told her he wasn't leaving him, and that she'd just have to work around him. And, once again, surprising Harry, she didn't say no.  
  
Pomfrey cast a series of spells and gave Snape more potions then Harry had thought one person could handle. Bandages were magicked around him, and Pomfrey permitted Malfoy to stay the rest of the night with him. "Only because he needs to be watched." She had said, seriously.  
  
So Malfoy stayed, for a long while nothing happened. Madam Pomfrey had returned to her chambers, and Harry sat watching Malfoy watch Snape. A few minutes, or was it a few hours later, Harry had lost track of the time, Snape began to wake. "Morning sunshine," Malfoy greeted, sarcastically. Snape's weakly opened eyes scanned the room, finally settling on the blond headed boy.  
  
"What the fuck happened? I feel like I've been run over." Harry winces slightly at hearing his own professor swear.  
  
"I think you might have been. Remember anything about the shrieking shack?" Questioned Malfoy. A look of absolute fear climbs over Snape's face. He was remembering what had happened. Malfoy saw his discomfort and moved over from the bed he was sitting on, opposite him. "Hey, it's okay," He said, placing a gentle hand on Snape's shoulder, and sitting next to him. "It's over and I wouldn't be surprised to see Black and Potter expelled from the school, anyway." Snape allows a small smile to play over his lips.  
  
"That would be nice." His voice is still sore, but it still can produce a slightly skewed sound.  
  
"Why'd you go down there anyway? I was going back to the dormitory when I ran into Black. He said that you'd be pretty roughed up by the willow tree. And that he'd tricked you into going down there, and that there was some sort of creature. You're not stupid, Sev. Why the hell were you down there in the first place?" Lucius tells Snape, rubbing slow circles on his back, and propping him up, so he laid up against him.  
  
"I don't want to talk about, Luc," He states plainly, looking down at the white linen sheets on the bed.  
  
"You sure?" Lucius prompts again. "I won't care what it's about, Sev, you know that." Lucius says quietly, wrapping his arms around him from behind. "Besides, you should tell someone, get it off your chest." Lucius sounded strangely soft.  
  
"You won't like it," Snape tells him.  
  
"Probably not, but it's not your fault." Lucius sounds almost sincere, actually, Harry admits to himself, completely sincere.  
  
"Sirius told me something about Remus." Snape divulges, hastily.  
  
"I can't believe you fell for it, Snape," Lucius sneers, but then his voice goes calmer. "I don't even see what you like about that poor freak."  
  
"He's not a freak, well, I guess he is," Severus' voice goes quiet at the end, pondering over something.  
  
"What do you mean, Sev?" Lucius asks him.  
  
"He's a werewolf, Luc. He tried to bit me. I guess that every full moon they lock him in the shrieking shack, and Black thought it would be funny to see me get bitten." It looked to Harry that Snape was almost going to cry, but decided not to, in time.  
  
"Don't worry Sev, by tomorrow everyone will know. And even if that fool Dumbledore doesn't want to kick him out, he'll get so many letters from parents that he'll be forced to." Lucius tightens his grip on Snape, and the wounded boy snuggles deeper against Lucius' body, turning his around, so that his face is buried in Lucius' shoulder. "Try to sleep, Sev. It'll be a little better in the morning, I promise." Lucius looks down at Severus and kisses his hair, sweetly, and puts his head against the pillow and closes his own eyes.  
  
"Thanks for understanding, Luc." Snape's voice can barely be heard to Harry, who feels the pull of being forced away from this scene.  
  
Harry lands back in Snape's chambers, still covered in his invisibility cloak, wanting to see more, but knowing it's too late. He makes his way out of Snape's chambers, and back through the dungeons, wondering, the whole time, what it was Sirius had told Snape about Lupin to get him to go down there. Harry decided that the next morning he was going to have to write his Godfather a letter.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
YAHOO!!! Third chapter is up! I feel so accomplished! Anyway I think I really like this chapter. I don't why, but something about the shrieking shack incident always intrigued me, so I decided to do my own take on it. Anyway please leave a little review for me to read, because I just crave attention. The next one should be up some time soon.! 


	4. Chapter Four

It all started with a Pensieve  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Harry wasn't about to waste any time. He ran straight from Snape's chambers to his dormitory and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. He charged back up to the Owlery, wondering what he was going to say. Once there, he sat down at the ledge and spread his parchment out. Dipping his quill in ink, Harry began to write.  
  
Dear Snuffles,  
  
I was wondering about what you used to do at school. Gryffindor and Slytherin are out doing each other for pranking, and I need some more ideas. On that note, Hermione and me were having a little debate yesterday. We were wondering how you got Snape down to the shrieking shack. Don't worry, we're not planning on killing anyone, but we need to get Malfoy to go somewhere. So write as soon as you can, and I hope you're well. Love Harry.  
  
Harry put down his quill and read the letter over. Okay, so most of it was an outright lie, but there was some truth to it. With a sigh of guilt about lying to his Godfather, Harry found Hedwig and tied the letter to his leg, then sent him on his way.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The next morning, Harry was awakened by Ron shoving him roughly in the side. "Get up, you lazy bum." Harry's eyes slowly opened and focused on where he was. "Hurry up, class starts in ten minutes." Ron warned, throwing Harry's school robes at him.  
  
Harry, groggily, managed to get up and put on his clothes, with much effort and force his way down to Defense Against the Darks.  
  
He took a seat between Ron and Hermione. "Are you sleeping okay?" Hermione whispered, moments into the lesson.  
  
"Yeah. Why?" Harry yawned loudly as he said this.  
  
"You've been tired and late for class for the last week. Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey." She suggested, with a helpful glint in her eyes.  
  
"I'm fine, really." He assured her.  
  
"You aren't having those dreams again, are you? Because if you are, you should go straight to Dumbledore."  
  
This was really starting to get on Harry's nerves. "Listen, I'm fine. Just perfect, now will you lay off, for just five seconds?" Hermione, clearly offended, turned her head in disgust.  
  
"I was just trying to help," She muttered, and those were the last words that she said to him for the remainder of the lesson.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Classes went by normally enough for Harry, but he only could think about the letter he had sent to Sirius, and when he would be getting a response. Hermione remained cold and distant throughout the day, refusing to talk to Harry or even work beside him. Ron, for once being the peacekeeper, attempted to get them to calm down, but it had little effect.  
  
By the end of the day Harry had one plan, to sneak down to Snape's pensieve. When he was there, he had realized he didn't have to deal with his life. He could zone out and pay attention to something that had almost nothing to do with him. Harry was well aware that it had evolved to more then wanting to know why his father would ever hurt him like that, it was bordering on obsession, but Harry knew it was a way for him to forget what was going on.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
He wrapped his cloak tighter around his body, trying to block out the cold temperature of the dungeon. He was just a little more then halfway to Snape's chambers, and so far nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It was when he descended down a steep flight of stairs that he heard the yelling.  
  
"Snape, you get back here this second." He heard a voice booming. It was Lucius Malfoy, Harry was sure of it.  
  
"I have papers to grade, Lucius. I'll see you in the morning." Harry heard Snape's voice and turned the corner, being as silent as possible. Snape was standing awkwardly, wanting to leave the scene, but unable to because of Lucius' hand, holding him firmly in place.  
  
"We need to talk!" He demanded, anger humming in his voice. Harry huddled up against the wall, watching as Lucius tightened his grip on Snape's arm, and digs his nails into the bony wrist.  
  
"No! We don't." Severus pulled his arm away in a rough yank, and stormed down in the opposite direction. Lucius wasn't about to give up so easily. He grabbed Severus by the back hood of his robes, and shoved him up against the stonewall.  
  
"Listen to me, now!" Lucius demanded, hitting Severus in the face, causing his head to connect with the stone, and a sickening crush was heard. "Little wimp, can't please anyone." Lucius growled and slammed Severus' frame into the wall harder, earning a weal cry of protest from Severus' lips. Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for Snape as he was so ruthlessly beaten. "You'll listen now, won't you?" Lucius kicked Severus hard in his ankle. And Severus nodded.  
  
"Yes," His voice was practically inaudible.  
  
"You haven't been responding to The Mark, recently. Our Lord is not pleased, Severus." Lucius hissed, leaning into whisper it into Snape's ear. "The next time he calls, you will answer, or I will come here and bring you to him personally," Lucius threatened, and Harry was sure he saw Snape shudder. "And believe me, Snape. You don't want me to bring you to him." With that Lucius shoved Severus back into the wall, as a warning, and turned on his heels, heading up the dungeon stairs. He narrowly missed hitting Harry with his arm, but the boy was quick enough to evade him. He disappeared up the stairs and Harry turned his attention back to his professor.  
  
Snape was shaking. Harry watched as he sunk to the ground, and rested his head on his hands, struggling not to cry. His breath was uneven and his face was pale with fright. For a short moment, Harry had the idea to walk over and just wrap his arms around the frightened man, but then he remembered whom he was thinking about.  
  
Snape slowly stood, resting his weight mostly on the wall, and stumbled, clearly in some pain, down the corridor. Harry grimaced as he saw the back of his head was matted with blood. He supposed it was from when Malfoy had slammed him into the wall. Looking at the wall where Snape's head had been proved to have blood resting on it as well. Harry turned to go back up to his dormitory, knowing there was no point in staying much longer, but just when he was going up the steps he heard a crash, and a weak whimper.  
  
Harry turned back to see Snape collapsed on the floor, not moving. Panic seized Harry and he threw caution to the wind, discarding his invisibility cloak and running over to Snape, bending down to kneel beside him.  
  
Snape's eyes were closed and Harry could feel his pulse. He had fainted. Harry, not knowing what else to do, levitated his limp body with his wand, and floated him down the curling hallways, until he reached Snape's chambers. He spoke the password and the snake slithered up the wall, leaving the door open. Harry levitated Snape through his chambers and into his bedroom, placing him on his stomach, so his bloodied head is showing. Harry went to Snape's cabinet and searched through the many jars and bottles of potions. Finally he found one that he recognized from class that healed wounds. Harry grabbed it off the shelf and went back to where Snape lay. He was groaning softly, and his eyelids began to flick open and shut. Harry quickly retrieved his wand from his robes and shot a spell at him, putting him back to sleep. After Snape had fallen into a more fitful sleep, Harry sat of the bed beside him, and applied the lotion to his head, as gently as he could manage, trying not to think about whether it stung or not, as he was sure it did.  
  
The wound healed itself with the potion, and Harry decided that he should really get going before Snape woke up. He was about to leave when a pained expression came over Snape's face. He wriggled a bit, and let out a pained sob, rolling over and putting himself in the fetal position. He was having a nightmare. Harry sat back down, unable to leave him when he was clearly in some sort of pain.  
  
"It's okay. It's just a nightmare." Harry soothed, putting his hand on Snape's shoulder. The man cried out, louder this time, and buried his head further in the pillow. "Calm down, it's okay." Harry rubbed smooth circles on his back, trying to settle the nightmare before he woke up.  
  
Snape began to cry, tears flowing down his pristine cheeks. Harry watched as the sleep induced man, stopped fidgeting and moaning, and just cried, as though he never cried before. Long minutes passed, and Snape didn't stop, if anything the sobs only increased. Harry couldn't help but stare at Snape's face. The tears made him look even paler, and there was something innocent about it.  
  
Harry pushed himself closer and fondled Snape's face. Snape let out a whimper, but didn't wake. Pain still poured from his eyes, and he let out a choked back sob. Harry found himself laying next to him, and wrapping his arms around him, and bringing Snape's head to rest on his shoulder. "It's okay, professor. I'm here." Harry kissed Snape's sweat drenched hair, only wanting to comfort the distraught man.  
  
Harry was surprised when Snape wrapped his scrawny limbs, both arms and legs around him, and cried even harder. Harry kept rubbing his back and whispering soft words to him. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Snape slowly settled back into sleep, his face still wet with the tears he had shed, and sweat still clinging to his clammy skin and clothing. Harry untangled himself from his professor, and snuck quietly out of the room, wondering briefly if he should check the Pensieve for a while, but decided against it, just incase Snape woke up from his restless sleep.  
  
Harry creped out of Snape's chambers and picked up his cloak from where he left it, and rewrapped himself in it, sneaking back up to his dormitory, wondering what the hell had just happened, and why he had just done what he did.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry, once again, woke late the next morning, being dragged up just in time for breakfast, by Ron.  
  
Hermione didn't say a word to Harry, as the three of them made their way down to the Great Hall, but she didn't forget to give Ron a big hug, and smugly link arms with him for the remainder of the trip to breakfast.  
  
Harry scanned the faculty table to see that indeed Snape was there, but he looked far from good. He was just as pale as he had been the night before, and now deep black hollows were below his eyes, showing that he hadn't sleep long after Harry had left. He played with the food on his plate, Harry observed, but didn't eat anything, nor did he talk with anyone around him, even when it was clear that McGonagall wanted to start some sort of conversation.  
  
Harry forced his eyes away from the faculty table and focused on his breakfast. Suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore. "I'm going upstairs to sleep some more. I'll see you in class," Harry announced to Ron, before he got up and left the Great Hall for his dormitory, only wanting a little more escape.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
It's getting a little more slashy! I liked this one, pretty well. I hope you all enjoyed to, so whether you did or not please review. I intended for this chapter to some out sooner, and to be longer, but it didn't turn out quite like that. Oh well, it's still good in my opinion. Like I said before, please review and tell me what you think. 


	5. Chapter Five

It all started with a Pensieve  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Harry sat, unable to keep his attention on the potion, Ron and him were making. In fact, he didn't even know what this potion was supposed to do once it was finished. All his attention was focused mainly on the Professor, who sat grading papers at the front of the classroom, with a sneer on his face. It was strange for Harry to think that the man who had been in his arms sobbing uncontrollably only hours ago, was the same man who had just given Neville a detention for sneezing into his potion.  
  
"Harry!" Ron hissed into Harry's ear, not wanting Snape to hear, "Merlin, are you even awake? You haven't been paying attention to a word I've been telling you, have you?" Harry looked up from his ponderings and faced Ron.  
  
"Sorry, I'm just a little tired today," he admitted. "What were you saying?" He quickly changed the subject, not wanting Ron to give him another lecture.  
  
"Maybe you should go and see Madam Pomfrey." He suggested. He was getting slightly worried about Harry. He was always tired all the time. "I mean, Malfoy or some other Slytherin could have hexed you, or something. You might be sick." Ron attempted another approach, because the one he had been taking hadn't been working very well.  
  
"I'm fine, Ron. I just haven't been sleeping well." Harry looked back down at the instructions he had absent mindedly copied down. "Where are we again?" He asked, indicating the potion.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes, but refrained from saying anything. Instead he handed Harry a jar of batwings that needed to be chopped.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Something is definitely up with Harry," Hermione remarked, as her and Ron sat in the common room playing chess. Ron was of course winning.  
  
"Yeah, where is he now anyway?" Ron asked, scanning the room, but finding no sign of him anywhere.  
  
"I don't know. I really should apologize to him one of these days, but God, he doesn't take anything seriously. He's so off track. It's not like him." Hermione told Ron, while moving her Queen a few spaces to the right.  
  
"I really don't know what to do anymore. I told him to go and see Madam Pomfrey, but he didn't listen." Ron sighed and put Hermione's King in check. "He hasn't been listening for weeks," He added. Hermione nodded and blocked her King, not really paying much attention to what she was doing. Despite her intelligence, Hermione had never been a very talented chess player.  
  
"I wonder, maybe it's Cho, I mean she did dump him." Hermione was struck with the notion.  
  
"That was last month, and he didn't seem all that upset then. I don't think he ever liked her as much as he let on," Ron pondered, finally ending the game, as Ron's Knight slammed into Hermione's King. "Play you again?" He asked, grinning.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes slightly. "I've got homework, and so do you," He pointed out, searching through her book bag and pulling out a large textbook. Ron did the same and soon began writing his history paper.  
  
"He was doing the oddest thing in Potion's class today," Ron remembered, dipping his quill into ink and straightening out a long piece of parchment.  
  
"Oh?" Hermione answered, not really listening,  
  
"Yeah, he just stared at Snape through the whole lesson. It was too weird. I mean I was trying to tell him that idea we had to get the Slytherins during their quidditch match next week, and he just wasn't listening. He just kept staring at Snape. Then when I did manage to get his attention, he started cutting up the batwings and nearly took his finger off because he wasn't looking at what he was doing." Ron told her, and Hermione perked up a little, now listening.  
  
"Why was he looking at Snape?" She inquired.  
  
"I didn't ask. It would just set him off again." Ron knew he was right, as did Hermione. "It was just strange, that's all." She nodded in agreement.  
  
"I know we haven't had much luck talking to him, but maybe we should try again. You know be a little more serious this time." Ron shook his head.  
  
"It'll never work, we'll just have to find out on our own." Ron replied.  
  
"I suppose," she exhaled, disliking that she didn't get her own way.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry sat in the window at the astronomy tower, not doing much, just watching the sun set down on the grounds of Hogwarts. He didn't know whether he should go down to Snape's chambers tonight. He was really tired and could certainly use a good nights sleep, but at the same time he needed to know more. His gaze wandered into the distance to see a snowy white owl come flying into view. Hedwig! She had come back and she was carrying a crumpled piece of parchment in her talons. Harry stood up, and watched as she flew closer into sight.  
  
She swooped down into the window and dropped the letter into Harry's hand. "Thank you, Hedwig, good girl." With that she flew back out of the window, heading for the Owlery.  
  
Harry checked to make sure that no one was around and then quickly unfolded the parchment. It was ripped and torn, and also had smears and stains covering it, making some of the roughly printed words harder to read, but it was clearly from Sirius. And despite all the things that Harry was angry about that had to do with Sirius, and more importantly Snape, he couldn't help but feel slightly better knowing he had written.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
It's good to hear from you, Harry. I'm sorry that I can't write more, but a heard of Dementors are on my trail and I don't have long. There are a lot of pranks you could use, but they'd take too long to write out. Instead, on the Marauder's Map, tap your wand and say 'tricks of the trade.' A list will appear with some good pranks and how to do them.  
  
On how we got Snape to go down to the Shrieking Shake, well it probably won't work on Malfoy. You see, Snape always followed us around. We figured for a really long time that he just wanted to get us in trouble, but then we found out that the sick pervert had a thing for Remus. Well, you can guess that it would be pretty easy to lure him down with that info. All I told him was that Remus actually liked him and wanted to meet him down there. It was too easy! Anyway, I hope it helped. Like I said, it probably won't work on Malfoy, but you never know. I'll try and see you sometime soon. I'm thinking of dropping by during Christmas. Love Snuffles.  
  
Harry put down the parchment with a shaking hand. He couldn't believe it. Snape liked Professor Lupin. That meant Snape was gay. "Oh, Merlin." Harry swore under his breath, quietly. He slipped the letter into his robe pocket and vacated the astronomy tower, heading for the common room.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ron and Hermione had long given up their homework and were now, sitting in front of the fire, next to Neville, Lavender and Seamus, with a spare piece of parchment in front of them, planning their next move on Slytherin. It was going to be brilliant. Slytherin and Ravenclaw were having a quidditch game the following week, and the winner was in the play-offs, against Gryffindor.  
  
They had devised a plan. It was brilliant, but there was only one problem. They wanted it to be in the play-off game. It would of course still work during the match against Ravenclaw, but there would be something much more amusing about it, if it were against Ravenclaw. So for this to work they had to make sure Ravenclaw lost. The idea the Slytherin was the team to beat this year was ludicrous.  
  
All the decent players had gradated from Slytherin, leaving them with a second rate team, that Ravenclaw, who had a stronger team then ever before, was sure to beat. It sounded funny, but the planning was to make sure Slytherin won. The five Gryffindores could hardly stop laughing at the idea that they were trying to help the Slytherins. But of course it would ruin the whole thing if the Slytherin team, or any other Slytherin for that matter, found out.  
  
Of course it had to be done quickly. The play-offs were to take place at Christmas this year. The only reason for this was that another school, an American one, Coronation was the name, Hermione was sure, was having a competition. It was much like the Triwizard Tournament, but slightly shorter. Because of the yearly pranking of Gryffindor and Slytherin, the seventh years all opted not to go, but the sixth years were. They were to be over in America by the end of Christmas Holidays. Dumbledore hadn't wanted to cancel quidditch all together, so the play-offs were early this year.  
  
Hermione sat, parchment in hand, scribbling notes that the rest of them were dolling out, on how to make sure Ravenclaw lost. It was a pretty good list so far, and Hermione couldn't help but feel a little bad when they decided they were going to have to injure the Ravenclaw seeker, a small third year boy, the day before the game, so they would have to use their back-up, who wasn't quite so talented. When the list hit number thirty- four, the portrait of the Fat Lady opened, and in walked Harry.  
  
"Hey, Harry. Come over here. You have got to see this," proclaimed Seamus, who wasn't aware of the slight tension between Harry and Hermione. Harry said nothing, instead just heading up the stairs for his dormitory.  
  
"What was that about?" Neville asked Hermione, after watching Harry completely ignore his friends.  
  
"He's been a little testy lately," Hermione explained, deciding not to tell them the whole story.  
  
"I should probably go talk to him," Ron sighed and got up from his cozy spot by the fire and walked up the steep flight of stairs, leading to the dormitory. He opened the door to see Harry lying on his bed, reading a piece of scrap parchment. "What's wrong?" He asked, not wanting to sound to annoyed. "You should see what we're planning. It's going to be so funny."  
  
"Go away, Ron." Harry didn't exactly sound angry, more like he just wanted to be left alone. "I don't want to talk to anyone now." He added, not bothering to look up from the note he was reading.  
  
"What are you reading?" Ron refused to just leave without an explanation. Maybe it was a letter from Cho. She was working at the Ministry now, that's why they broke up. "Is it from Cho?" He asked, with a slight grin.  
  
Harry looked up, clearly not amused. "Get the hell out of here, Ron. I said I wanted to be alone!" Then he turned his attention back down to the dirty parchment.  
  
"Fine! God, you've been such a bastard to everyone lately. I come up here, only wanting to help and you bite my head off. Grow up, Harry." Ron stomped away, obviously pissed, and slammed the door behind him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was later that night that a happier Ron and Seamus marched back up to the dormitory to sleep. Ron had told Hermione about what had happened when they got a second alone. Even though he was angry with Harry, he wasn't about to go around and announce to the whole common room about a jackass he was being.  
  
The group continued to do their planning and at just after one in the morning, had decided to call it quits for the night and start again the following day. Neville had nearly fallen asleep earlier and at around eleven had packed it in, leaving the two girls and two boys to finish their work.  
  
Ron and Seamus opened the common room door and said their good nights. Seamus fell asleep in seconds, but Ron didn't. After about thirty minutes of lying prone on his bed, unable to sleep he realized that he couldn't hear Harry's soft snores. He must have been awake too.  
  
Ron, deciding to end his and Harry's tiff before it went onto a full fledged fight, got out of bed and tramped over to Harry's, careful not to wake anyone up. He pulled back the curtains, "Harry?" He asked softly, but got no response. His bed was empty.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harry stumbled along the corridor to Snape's room. He had heard Ron and Seamus come in and decided he needed to get some air. It's funny how he was intending to go out for a stroll around the quidditch field, and ended up in the dungeons, No one would notice him at least. Why did Ron have to be such a busybody, anyway? It didn't concern him what he had been reading. Harry knew he was just trying to help, but he really didn't want to hear it.  
  
The entrance to Snape's chambers were the same as always, and Harry snuck in, concealed within his invisibility cloak and found the darkened pensieve, exactly where it had been before. Harry dipped his finger into the wetness and felt himself being pulled upwards.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
He landed roughly, harder then he had before and stood up. He knew where he was. He had been here before, many times in fact, the Potion's classroom. Students, probably first years, sat in groups of two, listening to a young women speak about a potion. She was short, and had what looked like it would have been frizzy red hair, but it was tired in a tight bun, and had heavy gel on it. She wasn't old, mid twenties perhaps, not old at all, and by Wizarding standards, she could probably be still teaching at Hogwarts. Her robes were dark blue, which showed off her slim form. All and all Harry actually found her rather attractive. The only odd thing about her was large, about three times as big was her eyes, circle shaped glasses, which were bright red. Harry had to suppress a short laugh when it reminded him of an old muggle talk show host.  
  
Harry scanned the classroom, and his eyes fell automatically on himself, well not quite himself, Harry remembered, his father. Sitting beside him was a tall, well-built boy with longer dark hair, it had to be Sirius. Behind him was a fragile looking boy, extremely pale, with hollows under his eyes. Harry recognized him to be a younger version of Professor Lupin. And beside him was a pretty girl, with short red hair, and sparkling green eyes. It was his mother.  
  
As the Professor droned on, Harry took a few steps closer to this group and watched them closely. They were talking softly out of the corners of their mouths. He listened and caught part of their conversation.  
  
"So it's settled then?" Asked a younger Sirius Black.  
  
"Yep, right when the bell rings," Confirmed Harry's father, sitting next to him, with a goofy grin on his face. They said nothing more that Harry could hear, so he looked back around the classroom and saw, at the other side of the room Snape. It was very clearly him. Scrawny with a dark mop of unclean black hair, and piercing black eyes, oh yes, it was definitely Snape. He walked over to the other side of the class to see him sitting next to Lucius Malfoy. It had to be. He bore a striking resemblance to Draco.  
  
Only seconds later the bell rang, and Harry's future Potion's professor carried his books out of the classroom, with Lucius beside him.  
  
"How boring is she?" Lucius drawled, "And to think I was actually looking forward to potions," He said with an animated yawn.  
  
"I think she was brilliant," Snape's voice was quiet and hardly audible, and Lucius didn't seem to hear, and even if he didn't he clearly couldn't have cared less. Harry had to smile. Leave it to Snape to enjoy a Potion's professor worse the Professor Binns.  
  
"I have to run back to the dorms. I forgot my Transfiguration notebook. I'll meet you there, okay?" Lucius said, as he ran off down another corridor. Snape nodded and kept walking through the dungeons.  
  
"Hey, Snape," Someone called from behind him. Harry turned to see his father, his Godfather, and a sheepish looking Lupin standing behind Snape.  
  
"What do you want, Potter?" Snape's lip curled up in disgust.  
  
"You're such a know-it-all." Sirius said raising his eyebrow. "I bet you spend all you free time studying," He mocked.  
  
"Well, that's what happens when you don't have any friends," Laughed Harry's father. Harry couldn't help, but want to lead his Professor away, and teach him how to fight back, which he obviously wasn't doing.  
  
Lupin looked away, as if he really didn't want to be there. "What do you have next? Transfiguration?" Asked Sirius, in a sickly sweet voice, as he glanced at the books in his hands. Then without any warning James seized the book from Snape's hand, and begun to tear pages out of it. Snape tried to make a grab for it, but the much larger Sirius, held him back. James continued until the book lay in shreds on the stone ground. Harry felt horrible as he saw tears that Snape was trying to hold back, fall from his eyes.  
  
James laughed loudly at this, and dropped the useless book. "Cry-baby," He muttered as him and Sirius walked up the stairs, laughing like idiots. Lupin remained.  
  
"Sorry about that," Remus murmured, as he dropped to his knees and began to gather all the pages together. Snape was dumbfounded, clearly, by Lupin not laughing at him. Snape helped sort through them to, until most of the pages were in order.  
  
"Thanks," Snape whispered, blushing a little.  
  
"No problem." Lupin replied, standing up, and brushing off his knees. "I don't know a spell to put them back together, but maybe Malfoy does. And even if he doesn't, one of the older students would." Lupin told him, with a slight smile.  
  
"Thanks," Snape repeated, Harry couldn't help but allow a slight smile at Snape being so bashful.  
  
"I'll see you around some time," And with that Lupin took off, running down the corridor to catch up with Sirius and James.  
  
Harry watched as Snape straightened his robes and began down the hallway, probably late for class, but it didn't seem to bother him too much. Just then Harry felt the feeling of being pulled away from the scene and he landed back down in Snape's private chambers.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
This was probably my longest yet! Anyway I hope you all enjoyed. I know that everyone does the whole Snape like Lupin and all that about the whole Shrieking Shake incident, but I love that idea! So please review and tell me what you think. I'm so happy about the number of reviews I've gotten, but I still want more. LOL! Give me a break will you? So the next chapter should be out soon, probably by mid next week, if I can get around to it. 


	6. Chapter Six

It all started with a Pensieve  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Harry sighed a deep sigh, as he headed back to the common room. This was getting way too weird. He shook his head, in a desperate attempt to clear it. Harry was starting to wonder whether he should continue going back. Every time he saw something new, it just got more and more odd, and with what he had just witnessed, Harry was slightly scared about what was next.  
  
Deciding not to think about it anymore, Harry entered the common room through an extremely disgruntled Fat Lady and headed back to his dormitory to get at least a few hours worth of sleep. He slipped in the room and opened the curtains to his bed to see he was not alone. Ron was sitting on the edge of his bed, arms crossed and not looking too happy.  
  
"Where have you been?" He demanded in a hushed whisper, so not to disturb the rest of the dormitory.  
  
"Get out of my bed. I want to sleep." Harry said through gritted teeth.  
  
"You've been sneaking out every night, haven't you? That's why you've been so tired lately." Ron didn't seem so angry anymore, and he lightened Harry's mood up a good bit to.  
  
"Yeah." He said shortly. "Can we talk about this in the morning?" Harry asked, yawning and sitting next to Ron.  
  
"I guess. Just don't blow me off again, okay?" Ron laughed. Harry nodded with a smile. "Listen I'm sorry I went off on you, forgive me?" He questioned.  
  
"Yeah, of course. I'll explain everything in the morning, I promise." With that good-nights were exchanged and the two best friends climbed into their separate beds and fell asleep, or at least Ron did.  
  
Harry lay awake from a few minutes, thinking whether he should tell Ron the whole truth. He knew he wouldn't understand, he wouldn't get why he didn't think Snape was really so bad, and he most definitely wouldn't understand why he had kept going back to Snape's Pensieve. Harry decided he would just have to make something up.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Want to talk?" Ron asked, nonchalantly, as him and Harry sat under a tree on the grounds. Classes had just ended and the two Gryffindores had no homework to do, being it was Friday. Harry smiled, knowing he really had no choice at the answer. He had been dreading this conversation all day, and all truth be told, he was unsure about what he should tell Ron.  
  
"I guess." Harry said, trying not to sound so worried.  
  
"Where were you last night?" Ron got straight to the point.  
  
"The dungeons," Harry admitted, still unclear about what he would say next.  
  
"Why were you in the dungeons?" Ron asks, raising his eyebrow.  
  
"I don't think I can tell you." Harry tells him slowly, watching as Ron's face contorts into a very displeased expression.  
  
"You said you would." He points out.  
  
"You wouldn't understand if I told you." Harry attempted not to put Ron down very much, but it didn't seem to have much effect. Ron stands up in a huff.  
  
"Oh forget it Harry. You've been such a mess lately, and all I wanted to do was help, but no. You have to be perfect Harry 'fucking' Potter, and suffer silently and not ask for help." With that he stormed off into the castle, leaving Harry alone, sitting under the tree. Harry knows that there's no point to telling Ron. He'll just think he's lost it, not to mention that fact that he'd never stop ridiculing him for sneaking down into Snape's chambers on almost a nightly basis.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Friday night passed by horribly for Harry. He had decided not to 'visit' Snape that night, as he needed to catch up on sleep. But despite how tired he was, Harry found himself unable to sleep. So at half past eleven Harry sat in the common room, trying to read his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. He kept being distracted from the roars of laughter coming from the fireplace. Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean and Lavender were there, probably plotting some new trick to play on the Slytherins. Harry tried to ignore the hoots of laughter, but failed miserably. Finally, deciding he had heard enough, Harry closed his book, slammed it really, and went to his dormitory.  
  
He had little more luck at falling asleep in his bed though. So, after attempting to read once again, counting sheep, and humming annoyingly soft lullabies to himself, Harry could only see one more option. He would have to go to the hospital wing and get some sleeping potion from Madam Pomfrey.  
  
He climbed from bed, and pulled on his robe over his pajamas and left for the hospital wing, having to pass by the still laughing idiotically former friends of his. None of them so much as looked up at him as he passed. The halls were just as silent as always, though Harry hardly cared. A thought lapsed through his head, that maybe he should go down to the dungeons, but decided against it, being he was without his invisibility cloak.  
  
The usual overly quiet atmosphere of the hospital wing was not there that night however. Harry could hear voices and people scurrying about within it. Deciding not to go in just yet, Harry peered around the corner to see quite the sight. All the beds were empty, except for one. It was by the window, but Harry could make out who was in it, Snape. Dumbledore sat by his side, wiping his face with a rag, and Pomfrey stood beside him, attaching an IV bag to his arm. Neither of them was talking any longer. Snape looked asleep, either that or passed out.  
  
Harry had to get closer to see what happened, but he knew he couldn't do that without being seen. He ran, as fast and quietly as he could back to the common room. He noticed as he flew back up to his dorm that the group of plotting Gryffindores were no longer sitting by the fire.  
  
Harry grabbed his cloak hastily out of his trunk and ran at full speed back out into the hall. Forgetting to be quiet he charged back up the hospital wing, not able to be seen. When he came closer, he slowed down and quieted himself. He walked to the door and entered, seeing much the same scene he had seen before hand. Now Pomfrey was standing at the foot of the bed, talking softly to the Headmaster, who was still sitting on the hospital bed.  
  
Harry approached the bed cautiously, not coming too close, but still able to hear the private conversation going on between the two adults. "Where was he found, Albus?" Pomfrey's tender voice asked softly.  
  
"On the border of the forest. It was good we found him when we did." The Headmaster answered, tucking a loose piece of hair behind his ear.  
  
"It was. He nearly died on us anyway. I fear that if we had been only minutes later, there would have been no chance." Pomfrey held back a choked sob, and covered her face. "I'm sorry I've been such a mess lately. It's just I've been so nervous with all the rumors of raids being planned and such. And now Severus is in such a state. I just don't know what to do."  
  
"It will be alright Poppy. Try not to fret. You said yourself Severus will be okay." Dumbledore's voice was soothing and calmed the nurse down slightly. Harry couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Snape. Poppy wiped her eyes and nodded.  
  
"I should get to bed, Headmaster. Severus it under a sleep spell. He won't wake until morning." Dumbledore nodded and stood also. The two professors went their separate ways, leaving Harry alone with Snape.  
  
Harry walked quietly, so not to wake Snape, regardless of the spell. He had read that certain people could wake from these spells if they were sensitive and Harry had a feeling that Snape was probably one of those people.  
  
He looked down at the prone figure on the bed and had to suppress a gasp. Whoever had done this to Snape should be hanged, was Harry's first thought. He had been subjected to the Cruciatus curse, that much was easy to read. The bruises and marks were covering his face, neck and the parts of his chest, which the sheets weren't covering. He looked as though he had been burned, as the left side of his neck, as well as his arms were covered in blisters, though most of the ones on his arms were covered in bandages. His hair looked worse then ever before, and had an odd smell about it that Harry couldn't place. He was pretty sure he didn't want to. The young boy grimaced at the thought of what the rest of his body looked like.  
  
Throwing off his cloak, being he was pretty sure no one would barge in on him, Harry sat next to Snape, as Dumbledore had done, and stroked the bruised and battered face. Snape let out a little cry of pain, and tried to turn away from him, only to jar his body, and cause a weak sob to be ripped from his throat. Harry pressed a gentle hand to Snape's forehead to feel it was warm, much too warm. Getting up, he wet a damp cloth and laid it on his forehead and cheeks, trying to cool him at least a little. Snape quieted and let Harry cool him with no complaint.  
  
Snape drifted into a more fitful sleep and Harry stayed with him, soothing him every time something seemed to bother him. Harry felt sleep start to come over him at around one, and without hardly thinking about it, Harry found himself sprawled out next to Snape, his head on the same pillow, falling asleep soundly.  
  
How long he was sleeping Harry didn't know, but he was awakened by a hurt moan from beside him, and a sob. Harry opened his eyes to see Snape struggling against the blankets, still asleep, but in the midst of a very bad dream. It was still dark out side and, checking the clock, Harry found out it was almost four.  
  
He was crying out softly, whether it be from the dream or from the physical pain of moving, Harry didn't know. Harry sat up, and rubbed small circles on Snape's back, not wanting to frighten the distraught man by coming to close. It didn't work. In fact it only seemed to make it worse. Snape began to flail weakly, tears forming from behind his eyelids. Then he began to cry weak words. "No, please, not that." He let out a heated groan and moved him self into the fetal position. "Stop it, Lucius please not you, please don't." His words gave out to a scream, and Harry, only wanting to comfort the man, laid back down beside him and held him close, whispering soft words to him.  
  
"It's okay, don't cry. Lucius isn't here. You're safe your at Hogwarts." Harry held him and rocked him back and forth, trying to keep Snape from hurting himself further. Snape kept sobbing and started struggling against Harry. Harry tried to hold him still, while Snape only became more violent. Snape finally gained some control and got away from Harry, but his nightmare was far from over. He began to cough, barely getting enough air to breathe.  
  
Harry, knowing be to close only made matters much worse, started to rub his back and shoulders, loosening up the many knots that were there. Snape rocked himself back and forth, managing to calm down slightly, but kept inching away from Harry. Harry stood up, wanting to make Snape was comfortable as possible and noticed that all the covers were soaked through with sweat.  
  
He went to the supply cabinet and found some extra bedding. He went back to the bed to see Snape was still asleep, but clearly distressed. He had gone back to the fetal position and was rocking back and forth, humming a soft tune to himself. It seemed to work well to calm him. Harry recognized the tune and smiled a little. Who knew Snape liked Vertical Horizon? Harry pulled the cover off and had to look away at the sight of his body. He had been burned, horribly. The bandages concealed most parts of the burned skin, but there was parts where the bandages had become tangled and showed the blistered, bloody mess of flesh. Harry leaned down to untangle the bandages, not wanting to touch his skin, but knowing it would heal better with the bandages, Harry touched one of the more tangled parts on his leg, but was unable to fix it, because Snape jerked away roughly. He was still humming weakly to himself. That's when a thought hit Harry. He started to sing softly, loud enough for Snape to hear, but quiet nonetheless.  
  
// He's everything you want. He's everything you need. He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be. He says all the right things, at exactly the right time, but he means nothing to you and you don't know why. //  
  
Snape stopped struggling against Harry's touch and let him fix the bandages so they hid the horrid color flesh. He kept singing tenderly, wanting to keep Snape as relaxed as possible. He fixed the snag of bandages on his legs and kept singing as he started to change the covers.  
  
// You're waiting for someone to put you together. You're waiting for someone to push you away. There's always another wound to discover. There's always something more you wish he'd say. //  
  
Harry takes the dry sheets and covers them over Snape's body, still singing. Harry has far from a great voice, but he can carry a tune rather decently and doesn't really mind to do so in this case. He tucks the blankets around Snape and lies next to him, above the covers, so to give him some space. Not wanting to risk it, Harry keeps on singing.  
  
// He's everything you want. He's everything you need. He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be. He says all the right things, at exactly the right time, but he means nothing to you and you don't know why. //  
  
Harry watches as Snape's eyes close tighter and he begins to fall into a calmed sleep. Before he does though, he wiggles closer to Harry and rests his head on Harry's shoulder, wanting to get closer, but not able to because of the covers. Harry rests one of his hands on the back of Severus's head, stroking his hair, and the other on the small of his back, rubbing circles. He sings even more quiet, more directly into Snape's ear. It's really more like a whisper actually.  
  
// And you'll just sit tight and watch it unwind. It's only what you're asking for. And you'll be just fine, with all of your time. It's only what you're waiting for. Out of the island, into the highway, passed the places where you might have turned. You never did notice, but you still hide away, the anger of angels who won't return. He's everything you want. He's everything you need. He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be. He says all the right things at exactly the right time, but he means nothing to you and you don't know why. //  
  
Harry feels Snape press up against him tighter, and feels his soft, even flowing warm breath of his neck. Harry tightens his grip around Snape, almost as though he's afraid that someone might harm him, if he doesn't. Harry can feel himself growing more and more tired. Before he falls completely asleep, Harry sings the last bit.  
  
// I am everything you want. I am everything you need. I am everything inside of you that you wish you could be. I say all the right things at exactly the right time, but I mean nothing to you and I don't know why. And I don't know why. //  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Hey all. Sorry that this one was a bit late. I wanted it out yesterday, but it just didn't happen. Anyway, as you can all tell I'm a huge Vertical Horizon fan. They're one of my favorite bands of all time, and this song in particular is just great. I thought the lyrics might be good for Severus. It's not so much about Severus and Harry, but the song I think is really good for my little Severus/Remus thing going on, or at least that's how I saw it. Well be prepared because there's some heavy slash coming up in the next few chapters. It might not be all Severus/Harry though. Anyway please review. I'm so happy with all the ones I've gotten so far, but I still need more. I'll try and get on up the weekend. 


	7. Chapter Seven

It all started with a Pensieve  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Harry woke a few hours later, aware that the thin, lithe body next to him, had settled and pulled away slightly through the night. Checking his watch, Harry saw that it was just after six in the morning. The sun wasn't quite up yet, but flecks of light were playing against the windowpane. Harry moved as softly as he could off of the bed, not wanting to disturb Snape.  
  
Harry grabbed his discarded invisibility cloak from the floor and threw it over his shoulders, then headed out of the door and up to his dormitory. Everyone was still asleep when he arrived, so Harry crawled back into his own bed, and drifted off into a pleasant slumber, feeling better then he had in weeks.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Later that day, during dinner, Harry noticed Snape wasn't at the faculty table. He thought back throughout the day. He had slept through breakfast, so he went to the kitchen once he was awake and dressed. Lunch he had eaten in the Great Hall, but his attention was far from the professors because the Slytherins had put a spell on Neville's food, so that whenever he tried to eat anything, his food would turn into green sparks and burst in the air. Everyone at the Gryffindor table had tried to reverse the effects, including Harry, but there was no success.  
  
So, at dinner, when food wasn't going up in smoke, Harry looked up to see if Snape was there, but found he wasn't. It made sense really. The burns on his legs had been bad, to say the least, and he probably wouldn't be able to walk on them for a few days, even though he was treated with magic.  
  
Harry ate his dinner in silence, being no one was bothering to speak to him. Ron seemed to have told Hermione about what had happened, and in turn she seemed to have told Lavender, and the famous school gossip had told the rest of the year. Strangely enough it didn't seem to annoy Harry that much anymore. His mind was on much different things. Finishing dinner early, Harry knew that this would be the perfect time to look into Snape's pensieve.  
  
Harry went back up to the dormitory and grabbed his invisibility cloak, just in case it was needed. He would have to check to make sure Snape was still in the hospital wing first, so with that in mind, he ran off to it, under the confines of his Father's former treasure.  
  
The hospital wing was just as empty as it had been the previous night before. Pomfrey wasn't in sight, and Harry knew that Dumbledore was at dinner in the Great Hall. Making sure he made no noise, Harry crept inside and saw Snape, laying in the very same bed as before, but this time he was awake.  
  
Snape laid on his stomach now, with the covers pulled securely around his form, with a large book propped out in front of him, his eyes scanning over it. Harry smiled at the familiar sight. Even in class Snape always managed to read, Harry had never really cared before, but now he thought it was kind of funny.  
  
Harry left the hospital wing and proceeded down to the dank dungeons. A smell was wafting through them, probably the remnants of some potions explosion that happened on Friday. Harry slinked through the grime-covered corridors without meeting a soul, or making a sound. Finally he approached the snake entrance and spoke the password, entering the recognizable space.  
  
Harry found the pensieve, in the same place as it always was, and touched the inky liquid with the tip of his index finger. He felt himself being lifted above the dungeons and then landed on a stone floor. He recognized this place from before. It was Snape's bedroom from when he was a kid.  
  
He looked around, his eyes on the figure of a young man, pale faced and frightened, he lay in a huddle on his bed, wrapping his body around the covers. Harry sat down next to him and watched as the older boy, probably a little older then Harry, curled his fingers around his forearm, and squeezed his eyes shut. Harry watched as Snape slid the arm of his robe up to reveal a ghastly sight. Harry flinched as he saw the Dark Mark, burning a horrid red, with blisters breaking out around it and bleeding, sitting on Snape's pale skin. Snape clenched his fingernails into it and bit his lip hard. Harry placed his hand over the Mark, but immediately pulled it way. The skin on his hand that had touched the Mark burned horribly, and felt scalding.  
  
Harry rubbed Snape's shoulder instead, knowing that he couldn't feel it. It really gave more comfort to Harry then it did Snape. Snape brought his long legs up to his chin, and rested his chin on his bony knees, still clutching his burning arm.  
  
Harry played with Snape's lengthy hair, wanting to take some of the pain away, but not being able to. Then there was a knock at the door. Snape looked up and the door burst open, not waiting for an answer. In walked Snape's father, looking much more aged then the last time Harry saw him.  
  
"Get up, boy, and go down to the Floo system. We're going to the Malfoy's." Even his voice seemed older. Harry watched as Snape got up from the bed, his hand still clasping his forearm and brush past his father, clearly expecting a blow. Harry followed Snape out of the room and down the stairs, into the main parlor. A fireplace sat in the far corner of the room.  
  
Snape picked up the powder from the mantel and tossed it into the flames. "Malfoy Manor." And both Snape and Harry stepped in. When Harry emerged he was taken back at the sight of where he was. It was quite obviously the most decorative, rich house, or more appropriately mansion, Harry had ever been in. The ceilings were high, and silver decorated every piece of furniture around, as well as the numerous family portraits that hung on the walls. The fireplace that Harry stepped out of was silver also, and adorned with silver snakes. Harry looked around to see that only one other person was in the room. Lucius Malfoy sat in a winged back chair, sipping red liquid from a goblet. He looked up at the arrival of Severus and smiled a little.  
  
"Hey, Sev." He greeted. Severus didn't say anything in return, but sat down in a chair across from him. Harry noticed that Severus didn't seem in pain anymore.  
  
"You nervous?" Snape asked Lucius, quietly.  
  
"A little. Did it hurt much?" Harry wondered what they were talking about.  
  
"Yeah, but it doesn't last long." Snape replied. "How many people are supposed to be here, anyway?" Severus added.  
  
"Father didn't say. I have no clue, but he's making a big deal anyway. You should be the ballroom. It's got all these decorations, and banners. It's just making me even more nervous." Lucius admitted, chancing a glance to a closed door. Harry guessed that was where the ballroom was.  
  
"It's really not that bad." Snape remarked.  
  
"Can I tell you something, Sev?" Lucius suddenly sounded like a small lost child, and Harry had to suppress a smirk.  
  
"Of course." Severus told him, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm really scared. I don't want to do this." His voice dropped into a hushed whisper, and he can't looking back to make sure his father wasn't around. "But I know I have to. Father will be really angry if I don't." Lucius looked to the ground and avoided any eye contact with Snape.  
  
Severus didn't say anything for a while, then he finally spoke, also very quiet. "I know how you feel, but it's not that bad, I swear." Lucius looked back up, eyes shinning with unshed tears.  
  
"Thanks, Sev." Severus merely nodded. Now Harry really wanted to know what they were talking about.  
  
A taller man, older compared to the two teenagers, with striking silver hair, and piercing blue eyes walked in from the door to the ballroom. It had to be Lucius' father. "Hello, Severus." His tone was formal. "You two should change. Be down here in fifteen minutes." It wasn't a question, but then again, Harry doubted that this man asked a lot of questions.  
  
"Yes, sir," Both boys muttered, standing up and filing up a set of grand stairs, leading up many floors. They stopped at the sixth and went into a bedroom. Lucius sat down anxiously on the bed and gripped his stomach.  
  
"I feel really ill." He whispered to Severus, who looked at him with pity in his black eyes.  
  
"You want me to go get a potion?" Severus asked, looking slightly mortified as how weak Lucius was acting. It seemed to Harry that out of the two friends, Lucius was probably the calm, tough one. Lucius nodded and Harry followed Snape out of the bedroom and into a bathroom across the hall. He riffled through a cabinet before pulling out a bottle with blue liquid in it. Then Snape, with Harry in tow, went back to the bedroom, to see Lucius in the same position as before. "Here, drink this. It'll help your stomach." Severus told him, handing the bottle to Lucius, who took a drink from it, and set the remaining bit on his dresser.  
  
"Thanks, Sev." Lucius mouthed, hardly moving. "Are you wearing that?" He asked to Severus, who was wearing a gray cloak, with his hair tied back.  
  
"No," Severus answered, tossing off the cloak, revealing a slick black robe, with silver buttons. To Harry it looked like it had cost him quite a lot of gold galleons. "You don't have to wear masks at initiation ceremonies." Harry doubled back, understanding. Lucius was going to get the Dark Mark. That didn't make any sense; surely a Malfoy would have joined the Dark Lord out of his own free will.  
  
"Nice robes," Lucius remarked, going through his closet and fishing out a black robe, of a slightly different style then Severus', with a Slytherin green snake on the back.  
  
"Very fitting." Severus joked, earning a half smile from Lucius.  
  
"Get out, let me change." Lucius said with a smile, and scooted Severus, followed by Harry, out of his bedroom. The two of them, Harry and Severus, waited out there for no more then five minutes before, a freshly dressed Lucius appeared at the door, wearing the black robe, with his long hair tied back in a ponytail, clipped back in a green snake clip, that matched the one on his robe.  
  
"Come on, let's get going?" Snape suggested, leading a slightly shaking Lucius down the long flight of stairs. Harry noticed something very strange. Lucius, still looking frightened, leaned a little against Snape, and in response Snape whispered quietly into Lucius's ear, "Don't worry. It'll be over soon."  
  
"Thanks, Sev." Lucius' voice was once again scared. "Father said you could stay over tonight, if you want." He sounded like he was pleading; Severus could pick up on it easily too.  
  
"Sure, Luc." No more words were spoken as they made their way back down to the parlor and opened the door to the ballroom.  
  
That ballroom was much more complex then the parlor had been. The ceiling was higher, and dimly lighted candles floated near the top, casting an ire glow on the floor. A platform, much like a smaller version of a stage sat at the front of the room, and a high throne like chair sat in the center of it. The walls were lined with banners of snakes eating their prey and illegal curses being cast on people. Harry swore he could he one of the banners scream as a girl in it was put on the Cruciatus curse. Harry looked to see a gathering of about twenty people, all cloaked in dark colors, but no masks, stood in the center of the room. Harry recognized Lucius and Snape's fathers amongst them. The two boys, along with Harry, approached the gathering. Lucius' father was smiling broadly.  
  
"And here he is." He sat patting Lucius on the back. Harry watched as Lucius smiled a slight smirk. Harry doubted that it was real. "Just one more guest to arrive, and then we can start." Harry watched Snape's fact to see that he was looking intently at Lucius. Harry also had a pretty good idea of who the last guest. Was didn't have to wait long to see he was right.  
  
A much younger, much more human Lord Voldemort came into the ballroom. The twenty or so Death Eaters all bowed low to the ground, Snape and Lucius included. Harry felt disgust well up in his gut as he watched Voldemort grin at this sight, then motioned for them all to rise.  
  
"So, we're here today to welcome a new member." He looked over at Lucius, and the blond nodded humbly.  
  
"Yes, my Lord." He responded immediately. Harry wouldn't have been surprised to hear that Lucius had probably gotten lessons from his Father on how to treat Voldemort.  
  
"Bow." Voldemort instructed, suddenly becoming a lot less friendly. Harry saw Snape wince a little. Harry knew from then on that much worse things were about to happen. Lucius did as he was told, and Voldemort spoke. "To make sure you know that from now on I own you, I will have to test you. I will not have weak, stupid people following me." Harry shook his head, trying not to concentrate on how idiotic this was. If he didn't want weak, stupid people to follow him, then how the hell did Pettigrew join?  
  
Lord Voldemort pulled out his wand from his robes and pointed it at Lucius. "Crucio," Harry looked to see that Snape had his eyes closed, as did Lucius' father. Lucius on the other hand was doing much worse. His eyes were wide open, holding pain in them, that even made Harry feel sorry for the bastard. He could see that Lucius was biting his lip in an attempt not to scream, but was also busting his lip, because little drops of blood leaked from the torn lip, but he still didn't scream.  
  
The curse was ended thanks to Voldemort. Lucius' breath was coming out in short, heated gasps, and Harry could see he was holding back tears. "That was very well done." Voldemort told him, commanding him to stand, which Lucius did manage to do, with some difficulty. "I'll refrain from some of the other tests." Harry could see Snape visibly relax a little at these words. "Hold out your arm." He commanded, and Lucius rolled up the sleeve to his robe and held out his pale arm.  
  
Voldemort once again took out his wand and pointed it at Lucius' arms. He spoke a series of words, which sounded Latin to Harry. He could see Lucius' face was contorted into pain again, and was biting his lip. Harry watched as the pale, unmarked skin began to take color to it, a strong pure black shade. It slowly took the shape of the scull and then finally the snake. Voldemort put his wand back down in his pocket and looked up at Lucius. "You did well. Welcome." He put out his hand, and using his other arm, Lucius shook it weakly. "I'm afraid I must be off, but it was good to meet you Lucius, I'm sure you'll serve me well." With that he said a few more good-byes and left the ballroom, as did all of the other guests, except for Lucius, Snape and their fathers.  
  
"I heard you're staying tonight," Severus' father snapped, roughly.  
  
"Yes, father. I'll see you in the morning." Snape clearly wanted to get rid of his father at the moment.  
  
"I'll show you out," Lucius' father told him and walked with him out of the ballroom, leaving the two boys alone. That's when Harry saw how ill Lucius truly looked. He was unhealthily pale, with sweat forming at his brows. He was still breathing in shot, almost pained gasps, and looking at his arm. It was no longer just the tattoo that had been left, but now was bleeding vile looking blood and puss, as bruises and blisters began to break out all over it. The second his father was out of the room, Lucius collapsed; luckily Snape caught him before he hit the ground.  
  
"It's okay Luc, it's all over." Severus cooed, sounding gentler then Harry had ever heard him.  
  
"I think I'm going to faint," he murmured, before completely blacking out. Harry couldn't blame him in the least.  
  
The last thing Harry before feeling himself being pulled from the pensieve, was Snape lifting Lucius rather awkwardly in his arms and carrying him out of the ballroom.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harry landed on the stone of the dungeon ground and stood up, not knowing whether he should go back in or not. That's when he heard a voice. His heart sunk in his chest. If Snape was in here then he was going to have a horrible time getting out. Harry grabbed his discarded invisibility cloak and threw it over his shoulders, shrouding him from any onlookers. He heard the voice again. It wasn't Snape. It was Lupin.  
  
"Severus, are you in here?" He heard the voice ask. Harry popped his head out of the doorway and saw Lupin, standing by the entrance of Snape's chambers, calling for Severus. He called for him one more time, but once again got no response.  
  
Why was Lupin down here, Harry found himself wondering. Then a thought hit him. The full moon was in three days. Snape still must be making Lupin's potion, and he was here to collect it. Remus turned and left the dungeons, going to go and try to find Snape somewhere else in the school. Harry turned back to the pensieve and sighed. He might as well go and see one more; he did have all day after all.  
  
Deciding it was probably a better idea not to leave his cloak lying on the floor in Snape's chambers, Harry kept it on, and touched the murky liquid once more. He landed in another familiar place, but this time much more friendly. He was in the Great Hall, at what looked like the Sorting ceremony. The three-legged stool sat at the front, with the tattered Sorting Hat atop of it. He scanned the room to see Percy and the Twins at the Gryffindor table, but he didn't see himself, Ron or Hermione. This must have been when they were first years and they were sorted.  
  
No sooner had that thought crossed Harry's mind, than a stream of first years, himself included, was lead into the hall by McGonagall. He looked up at the faculty table to see Snape, looking slightly younger then he did now, sitting next to Harry's former Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, and glaring at the first years, one in particular. The sorting took place, much as Harry remembered it. The freshly sorted students had all taken their seats, and the meal passed with Harry standing next to Snape, who wasn't talking much, but kept glaring at him. Harry had to force back a slight smile, as he saw himself look nervously back and then ask Percy about who he was.  
  
Dinner finished and Harry followed Snape down to his chambers and into them. Snape sat back in front of a roaring fire and pulled out a book, beginning to read. Harry did nothing more then sit in front of the fire, wondering what was going to happen next. Then a knock at the door sounded. Snape stood and answered the door. Harry was expecting the Headmaster, or perhaps another professor, but it wasn't. An extremely shaken Draco Malfoy stood at the door, flushed and with tears rolling down his cheeks.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, what is that matter?" Snape didn't sound too happy to see him.  
  
"I, well I, I don't feel well Professor," Draco whispered, looking at the ground. Whatever Draco had expected to happen clearly hadn't.  
  
"Come in, Mr. Malfoy, but next time I expect you to go to the hospital wing. That's what Poppy is paid for." Harry almost felt sorry for Malfoy as he saw how dejected he looked. Snape went into his work cabinet and pulled out a bottle filled with pink potion, and then handed it to Draco. "I bide you a goodnight, Mr. Malfoy." He said curtly, shuffling the blond boy out.  
  
"Please, professor, do I have to leave?" Draco's voice shook, trembling with nervousness.  
  
"What is the matter? Just tell me so I can get on with my night, Mr. Malfoy." Severus began tapping his foot on the stone.  
  
"Professor, I'm homesick." Draco blurted out. Harry began to laugh uncontrollably. Draco Malfoy, Mr. King of Hogwarts had been homesick. It was too funny not to laugh at.  
  
"Well then Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you go and talk to someone who cares, because believe me I don't." If Draco had looked shocked before, it was nothing compared to what he looked like now. More tears fell from his eyes and he took off down the hall, running and sobbing at the same time. Even Harry had to feel bad for the poor boy. Harry looked over at Snape and suddenly remembered why he had disliked him in the first place.  
  
Snape shut the door to his chambers and shook his head. "Blood Malfoys. As if I'd do anything for that bloodline." Those were the last words Harry heard before landing back again on the dungeon floor of Snape's chambers, in the present time.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
My chapter is actually up early. I thought it would be up tomorrow, but no it's up today! Anyway I hope you all liked it. I've been getting a few complaints that Snape's a little too soft so I hardened him up a little, but don't expect him not to have any feelings, because I hate when they do that to him in other fics. So please review, and from now on, if you're adding me to your favorites list, could you please just mention that because I'd really like to know. And I don't want to search through all my reviewers. Hopefully the next chapter should be out my mid next week. 


	8. Chapter Eight

It all started with a Pensieve  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
"Gyffindork, get the hell out of my way," Shoved Draco, as he passed Harry in crowded halls. Harry wasn't about to stand for this today. He was too close to losing it. It wasn't even funny. The morning had involved being shunned out of the Grffindor table, being late for class because the Slytherins thought it would be funny to bewitch his textbooks so they flew in the opposite direction he was walking, getting yelled at by McGonagall for being late, then by Flitwick for not finishing his homework, and to top it off, when Divination rolled around in the afternoon, Harry had no one to sit with and was forced because of the odd number in the class, to work with Trelawny.  
  
Now, the end of the day, and exiting from flying class, Harry was really ready to blow off some stream, and Malfoy seemed like just the perfect person. "Oh, fuck off, Malfoy." Harry announced, stopping walking, as he glared at the blond.  
  
"What did you just say to me?" Malfoy asked, also stopping. The two boys stared at each other amidst the crowd of hastily moving students, wanting get back to their common rooms.  
  
"I told you to fuck off," Harry told him, not tearing his eyes away for a second.  
  
Malfoy glowered at him, saying nothing and doing nothing for a few moments. Then, still in the cramped space, he took a step closer to Harry and swung at his gut, landing a hard punch square in the middle. The mob of students all froze as the saw Draco Malfoy, soon to be Death Eater, take a swing at Harry 'the boy-who- lived' Potter.  
  
Harry wasn't about to be bullied by some snot nosed Malfoy. He pushed him back by the shoulders. Sending Malfoy hurtling back into a small group of second year Ravenclaws. Draco stood up immediately and pushed Harry into a near-by wall. That's when the crowd formed. Some of the younger students, deciding it would be safer to leave, as opposed to staying, headed down an empty hallway, but most stayed and watched, as the fight got rougher and rougher.  
  
Wands forgotten, Harry kicked Draco roughly in the shin, sending Draco to the ground. Malfoy grabbed a loose piece of cloth from hanging from Harry's robe, and pulled him down to ground, maneuvering himself on top of him. Draco reached around and seized Harry around the neck, effectively starting to strangle him. Harry clasped Draco by the wrists and attempted to move the hands that were cutting off his air. When that failed to do much, a though struck Harry like a bolt of lightening. Harry moved his knee just a bit upwards, and proceeded to kick Draco, with one swift jerk, in the crotch. Malfoy let out a sharp cry of pain, and released Harry's neck. The black haired boy, gasped for breath, but lost no time when Draco was in obvious pain.  
  
Harry flipped Draco onto his back, and punched him hard in the face, sounding a crack, and breaking the Slytherin's nose, as blood rushed out of it. Harry did this once again, and then punched Draco in the stomach for good measure.  
  
By this time the crowd was larger and all of them were watching with rapt attention. Harry could have cared less about who saw this, until he heard a booming voice and regretted everything.  
  
"What is going on here? Don't you all have somewhere to be?" Snape's voice asked, parting the multitude of students, who were fleeing the scene. His eyes rested on Potter, who was now sitting on top of a very messed and bloody Malfoy, who looked like he was going to be very sick, very soon. "Potter," He said, his eyes slitting in anger, "My office, now." Harry got up; hardly caring that Malfoy was breathing loudly, and brushed past a very upset Snape. Harry looked back as he walked down a flight of stairs to see Snape crouching beside Malfoy and helping him to rise.  
  
Snape's office was much the same as it always was. Crowded with disgusting vials and jars of unknown substances were shelves, with dust literally dripping off of the corners. Harry took a deep breath of air before entering. The air inside this room was musty and smelled of unclean mold and dirt, along with other scents wafting from the contents of jars.  
  
Harry took a seat in front of the desk, and waited. He knew that Snape would probably arrive with the Headmaster and McGonagall, raving about how he should be expelled, because after all, he was just like his father. Then Dumbledore would pull some sort of speech in which you would expect music to start playing in the background of, defending Harry of all of his wrong doings. He would end up with a week's detention, none of them would be with Snape, and the whole incident would be forgotten. It had happened countless times throughout his years at Hogwarts, which was why Harry was surprised when Snape arrived, without the Headmaster, or McGonagall. His eyes blazing, he swiftly walked behind his desk and sat down, and leaned forward slightly.  
  
"What in the name of Merlin do you think you were doing to Malfoy?" He hissed, hardly moving his lips. Harry wasn't going to be intimidated by this any longer.  
  
"He hit me, so I defended myself," Harry sat back in his chair, sniffing indignantly. Snape looked absolutely furious.  
  
"There is so fine a line between defending oneself and beating someone into a bloody pulp." Snape spoke through clenched teeth. Then a though hit Harry, and he had to suppress a slight grin.  
  
Harry began to hum, very quietly so Snape could continue on his rave. He was jabbering on about how he was a disgrace to the school, and should be done away with. Harry continued to hum, wondering whether Snape would recognize the familiar tune.  
  
"Potter, stop your humming and listen." Harry looked up at Snape, eyes wide with innocence.  
  
"Don't you like Vertical Horizon, Professor?" Whatever Snape had expected Harry to say, it certainly wasn't that. Snape narrowed his eyes at the black haired youth and scowled.  
  
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Potter." His expression was tight lipped and angry. "You know, you're just like your father. You don't take anything seriously and you'll never grow up." Snape accused and Harry blanched. Once he would have been honored to be told that he was just like his father, but now he didn't want to hear it.  
  
"I'm not like him." Harry said bluntly, wondering what Snape was thinking.  
  
"Yes you are, and you'll never change. Proud and stuck up, arrogant, not to mention an idiot." Harry didn't even flinch.  
  
"My father may have been all those things, but I'm not, Professor." Snape was clearly confused. For the past few years every time he had insulted James Potter, his son would go bananas about it, but now he was hardly getting a response. "Now can you just tell me when I have detention, so I can go?" Harry asked him coolly, determined not to show Snape how much he wanted to apologize for all the shit his father put him through.  
  
"Be down here at seven tomorrow. You'll be cleaning out the cauldrons." Snape informed him, and pointed to the door. Harry turned and left, slightly angry with himself and with Snape for some unknown reason. He trudged up to Gryffindor Tower to see Hermione, Ron and Seamus sitting by a table, Seamus and Ron playing chess. Harry felt a ting of sadness, wanting to go over and see them, but knowing he couldn't. Then Seamus called over to him.  
  
"Thanks a lot Harry. Gryffindor's down fifty points because of you." Seamus shouted over, and Harry felt his stomach plummet. He had forgotten about that. It was stupid of him to think that Snape wouldn't take points away. And for the first time in a while, Harry felt like he wanted to cry. He nearly ran up the stairs, knocking Neville down the last two steps, and charged into his empty dormitory. He cast a lock on the door and went over to his bed, burying himself in covers, and pulling the curtains closed.  
  
He cried for everything. He cried because he missed Ron and Hermione, he cried because he wanted to believe hi parents were perfect, he cried because he had been so stupid to think that Snape was a different person then he had been a month ago, just because he found out some stuff about his childhood. He cried for how angry he was at Sirius and how much he just wanted to hurt his own Godfather. It went on for what seemed like hours. Finally, after losing track of how long he'd been in his dorm for, and what time it was, Harry deciding it was better just to sleep rather then go and get dinner, if indeed dinner was on now. He curled up deeper in the covers, and rested his head on the pillow and refused to get up and undressed.  
  
He closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep, but was awoken from his half asleep state by a knock at the door. Harry pulled his head under the pillow and wished whoever was there away, but the knocking only increased. Finally after the knocking had gone on for at least five minutes, Harry got up out of bed, knowing his hair was tousled and his was face and eyes were red from crying, but he only wanted the pounding to stop so he could sleep.  
  
He pulled the door open and saw Ron standing on the other side, with a sad smile on his face. "You want to tell me what happened?" He asked, sounding a lot gentler then he usually was. Harry just stared at him, tears brimming in his eyes again. He felt himself lose control again and began to cry, unable to stop it. That's when he felt strong arms wrap around his waist, and a soft hand reached up to stroke his hair. "Come on, tell me what's wrong?" Ron nudged, as he lead him over to Harry's bed, and helped him to sit down. Ron took Harry into his arms and let him cry out himself for a few minutes.  
  
"If I tell you, you can't tell anyone else," Harry looked up at the older boy, and Ron nodded.  
  
"I promise I won't tell anyone, unless you're hurting yourself." Ron whispered, stroking Harry's hair again.  
  
"You think I'd do that?" Harry questioned, his eyes beginning to water again.  
  
"No, I don't, but you've been so different lately. I know I've been a rotten friend, we all have. I'm so sorry, Harry." Ron told him in a hushed voice, watching as Harry stared up at him, then broke down in tears. He moved his legs up to his chin and sobbed into his knees, thinking that there were no more tears left to cry, but proved wrong.  
  
Ron held him tighter, pulling him closer so that Harry could cry into the crook of his shoulder. "Thanks, Ron." Harry said, hardly audible, Ron only nodded and held him closer. Harry looked up weakly, cheeks still wet.  
  
"Tell me what's wrong, I want to help." Ron told Harry, as Harry stopped his crying and eased down to the pillows. Ron sat beside him, playing with his hair lightly.  
  
"I don't think you'll understand. You'll think I'm a freak." Harry whimpered, struggling to hold the tears back once again, feeling weak and ill.  
  
"I'll never think you're a freak, and I might not understand, but I can try at least." Ron's words were comforting and soft, and Harry blinked away his tears, sighing.  
  
"I'll tell you." With that Harry took a deep breath, "Remember when we went down to Snape's private chambers."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A bit of a cliffhanger here, anyway I hope you enjoyed it. I know it was a bit shorter then the ones before, but I didn't have much time to finish it. So read and review please. I'll try to have the next one up by the weekend. 


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